White Mountains Painting – Final version

Yaayyy! I’ve completed White Mountains painting.

(If your monitor is like mine, the actual painting is about 30% darker than this photo appears.  It’s not quite so “New England quaint” as this picture may look.)

I started this painting of the New Hampshire landscape – focusing on a Whitefield, NH, hotel – in February 2010.

The painting been through several incarnations.

This week – 17 March 2011 – I completed this painting and I’m (finally!)  pleased with it.

The recent tweaks & changes made it “just right” for me.  Those changes included lightening the roof and adding more lit windows.

I’d tried a dark roof – figuring (logically) that it’d be in shadow, opposite the light of the moon – but the entire building seemed to get lost.

No matter what I did with the lights in the windows, or how much detail I added (in contrast with the deliberately simple landscape around it), nothing made the hotel stand out.

Changing the tone of the roof – from dark to light– helped right away.

Then, I experimented with the windows.  I wanted the hotel to look welcoming but not quite full.

In addition, I wanted the hotel to look very cozy and home-like… but also have that slightly other-world ambience that’s part of the Spalding Inn’s charm.

Now this 24″ x 30″ oil painting is on my living room wall, drying.

Taking this painting through its many stages has reminded me of the dance that artists do:  We immerse ourselves in the rich emotions of the creative process, and then we step back to coolly evaluate the work in progress.

That balance is key.  Unless the emotional content is there, the art can be vapid, no matter how great the artist’s technical expertise.

However, unless the artist can remove him- or herself from that emotional investment, at least enough to see what’s working and what isn’t, the painting won’t reach its full potential.

Last night, I felt that the painting was probably completed. This morning, when I looked at it again… yes, I’m happy with it now.

A somewhat dark follow-up

PaintbrushesRe-reading this post, I see I was treating part of this story lightly, because it’s personal.

However, I’ve realized that it’s also an important part of the story of this painting.

The problem is, it’s not necessarily a happy story, so you may want to skip it altogether.

Okay, if you don’t mind stories about grieving and solace, here it is…

The day my mom passed away – on April 19th, 2010 – all I could think about was getting in the car and driving somewhere that would keep me above the grief and sense of loss.

I knew that my mother would not want me to spend the day crying; she was like that, about death.

So, with my (adult) daughter who was visiting me, I got into the car and drove to Whitefield (NH) and the Spalding Inn.

In New Hampshire’s White Mountains, that town is literally above the troubles of daily life.

Also, I’m among the second generation (in my family) to spend time at the Spalding. Maybe that’s why I felt drawn to it, that day.

Or maybe it’s because the hotel’s fresh air and magnificent views connect me with Nature.  The underlying rhythms of everyday life – the “Circle of Life” perhaps – make more sense to me in that context.

Everything seems right with the world.

Whatever the reason, the Spalding gave me a sense of serenity last April.

It was a “destination,” as I’ve suggested in my concept for this painting. I’m not sure why reaching a destination seemed to lend necessary closure to the moment, but it did.

I completed this painting nearly a year later, in March. That was the week of my mother’s birthday. And that made perfect sense.

Imagination and Reality – Anasazi Scene

Last summer, I suddenly had a clear vision of a painting that I knew I was supposed to create for an online friend in Colorado.  The vision was partly realistic and partly a fantasy mix.

(Now and then, I get an idea for art that seems — from the start — to be intended for a particular person.  I know how odd that sounds, but it’s part of the intuitive process of being an artist.)

The nearly-completed painting is at left.

It’s an unusual work for me, but it’s rapidly approaching the picture in my head… the one I started with with.

The process began by collecting photos and making thumbnail sketches to put the ideas together.

Since I have never seen the Anasazi dwellings in America’s Southwest, I needed to do considerable research online and at the public library.  I was amazed at how few photos matched the images I was looking for.

However, looking for reference photos when the picture is clear in my mind… well, it’s like shopping for clothes when I have a very definite (fantasy) mental picture of what I want.

In other words, the process can be frustrating.

In this case, since I knew that the picture in my mind wasn’t actually going to match the real Anasazi landscape… well, I wasn’t sure where I was going with the work.

I guess the closest description might be the process artists use when painting science fiction illustrations.  Though we often use real, Earth-based images as points of reference, the finished work strikes out in a new direction.

Artist's journal references for an Anasazi-related paintingAt right: A page from my artist’s journal, collecting reference photos.

I knew that I wanted sky, trees, and a plateau.  Beneath that, I wanted some vivid, flame-like textured strokes.  The upper left photo from my journal was my reference for them. (That’s a picture by Stephen Trainor.)

Beneath that, I wanted the Anasazi dwellings, half-sheltered beneath an overhang.

Finally, I wanted a smooth rock face and some colors referencing the scene at the top.

All in all, I get the idea that it’s supposed to look a little like a Hollow Earth scene.

Here’s the painting process, and I continue to work with a tonal, acrylic underpainting.

The first photo shows the initial tonal notes in midnight blue and white.

After that layer dried, I started painting with oil paints.  The sky and plateau area were first, with some tonal corrections in the shadows lower in the painting.

Note: As I’m looking at this photo of the partially-completed work, I think I may re-introduce more blue into the shadows.  I’d grey’d them with ochre (a yellowy, muddy brown) and I think I prefer the blue… but I’m not sure yet.

After the upper landscape looked good, I was ready to work on the cliff-side colors, shown in the next photo.

At this point, it’s time to put the canvas aside and look at it, fresh, in a week or so.

I’m not sure what will happen with it, next, but I’m pleased with the results so far.

The original is an 18″ x 24″ oil painting on canvas.  This isn’t a commissioned work (I don’t work on commission), but it’s one that has been a fairly clear creative vision for a very definite recipient.  I’m painting it intuitively because that seems like the right thing to do.

For me, this isn’t a unique process, but it is fairly unusual.

Lavender Sunset – 15 Mar 2011

Last evening’s sunset was another rich tapestry of colors.  Mostly, I wanted to capture the delicious lavender colors in the sky, accented by pinks and yellows.

More and more, I’m introducing intense colors and odd juxtapositions as I see them.

Sketches – including this one – look absolutely amazing at 30 feet.  Up close… the magic seems to evaporate and it’s just paint… areas of color and texture.

It’s an interesting phenomenon, somewhere in-between Impressionism and something better described in abstract terms.

I’m also realizing the importance of impression-based paintings.  Even the camera cannot capture the nuances of color and contrast.  The following photo was taken shortly after I started my sketch, and… well, you can see how much the photo lacks, compared with the painting.

The painting is on an 11″ x 14″ canvas, and the medium is oil paint.

Juicy Winter Sunset

This is one of my few recent oil sketches.  That’s partly because the skies have been either overcast or cloud-free, and not very interesting for my approach to landscapes.

Also, the past few weeks have been a little somber for me.  Last Friday (March 11th) was my late mother’s birthday. I’m still getting used to the idea that she’s gone. In a way, I guess I thought she’d always be around, even after she turned 90.

But, of course, that wasn’t realistic. I kind of hate that, but there it is. And sometimes art is my way of processing things.

Sometimes it’s sort of like “sitting shiva,” and I think that’s important.

However, there are days when I must pick up the paintbrush, and this sketch represents one of them.  It’s a 9″ x 12″ oil sketch on canvas board.

The colors were rich and juicy and they were reflected in the snow that was still on the ground. I know my mom – also an artist – would have liked this.

Snowy Tree – In Progress

A recent, surprise snowstorm presented another opportunity to paint the frosted scene outside my window.

The painting — not yet finished — is an oil painting on 9″ x 12″ canvas board.

Before I say that this painting is completed, I’d like to try indicating the falling snow.  However, I’m not sure that’s a good idea.

By letting this painting dry fully, if the next layer doesn’t look right, I can simply wipe it off the canvas and get back to this point… which I’m happy with.

This is the first of a series of paintings that I’m trying with an acrylic, tonal underpainting.

I’m starting with my usual underpainting of cadmium red.

Then, I’m using white and a dark paint (brown, blue or even black) to indicate the lightest lights & darkest darks.

Once that sketch dries, the oil painting begins.

So far, I’m pleased with this approach.

Below:  The actual scene outside my window, and the acrylic underpainted sketch.

Winter photo Winter tree - acrylic sketch

Tree Sketch – Evolution Series – Feb 2011

The wooded landscape across the street from our home is intriguing.

It offers such depth, I haven’t been quite sure how to capture the trees as well as the colorful skies behind them, especially in the afternoon.

In early January, I tried a quick sketch in oils.  That’s it on the lower right.

It was an okay sketch, but nothing great.

Two weeks ago, during an experiment with eBay art auctions, I decided to try selling that sketch for $5.  My thought was, “It’s an original oil painting.  A real one.  Surely it’s worth as much as a meal at McD’s.”

Well, it didn’t sell.  Pout.

So, on Sunday afternoon (13 Feb 2011), I decided to paint over it.  The colors were good and I wanted to keep the general composition, but I could see that it needed more oomph.

Previously, I’d painted the same scene with a slightly different technique.  (That’s Sunlight in the Trees – 11 Feb 2011.)  I really liked how that one turned out.

The earlier tree sketch, displayed nearby… well, it just looked silly in contrast.  I wasn’t happy with it.

tree sketchSo, I placed the January sketch (shown at right) on my easel and began some radical revisions.

I wasn’t going to paint over the whole sketch… just improve it.

My plan was to try the opposite of my Sunlight in the Trees technique: That is, I’d paint the light first, and then paint the trees over it.

I started with the snow in the foreground.  That needed more light and color.  I painted over the lower tree trunks and the snow.

After that, I worked on the sky… more variety to the color, and generally more white.

Next, I scrubbed in greens and blues with some orange-ish accents, to suggest the hills in the background.

At that point, all I had left from the original work were the upper portion of  the tree trunks.  I wanted to leave most of them as references, since I’d planned to restore their branches after the background colors dried.

(If you compare the two versions of this painting, you may see the same tree trunks in both.  All I did was shorten them and alter the contrast in the current revision.)

However, as I brought the hill colors down to the tree trunks and started filling in the glow of the sun as it set… well, a different vista emerged… a fantasy landscape.

The hills became the trees, and I emphasized the varied treetops.  I also added contrast and light.  Alternately, I’d blob colors on with a bristle brush, and then smooth it into the landscape with a (soft) sable brush.

I began to fall in love with this revised painting, shown at the top of this article.

Though the painting isn’t completed yet, I’m pleased enough to post it here and show you how it’s evolving.

This also reveals the way that one painting (Sunlight in the Trees) can influence other, related artwork.

This tree sketch is an 8″ x 10″ oil painting on canvas board, and it’s the latest in my “Evolution” series in which I paint over parts of existing works — often making radical revisions — to improve them.