Most of November was a month to paint California scenes for the Vanessa Rothe Gallery in Laguna Beach. I love painting California as the light and color there is so appealing. The Early California Impressionists have been a big influence on me and I was once told by a New Hampshire gallery owner that I paint New England like a Californian. At least for him, it was a positive and I am happy to take it that way.
This painting was originally done over a year ago and when I saw it with fresh eyes, I couldn't believe all that needed to be changed in it. The foreground was too dark, it lacked depth and overall, just seemed uninteresting. So, as you can see below in the before and after shots, I changed the ridgeline, added a distant mountain (and thus added some violets), raised the heigth of the main tree, made more interesting clouds and added better color.
This is actually a combination of three different reference photos to make an imaginary landscape so no one can go to a specific spot and see this. It used to matter to me to be much more "accurate" in terms of painting a certain spot but over the years I've come to realise that making a better painting is primary. And whether or not that had anything to do with it, this I believe is the best California landscape I have ever done.
I was able to do one NH landscape this month and it was done as a demo painting for my workshop at the Landgrove Inn. The point was- how to work with atmosphere or fog in this case. As I was doing it and about to put the sun in the upper right, a student asked if it might not be better in the upper left. After considering that, I realised she was right and told her, "I don't know whether to thank you or tell you to get out!" Those who know me will know that I was joking. But by my putting it in the upper right would have split the focal point between the sun and the main tree at left. By putting them in the same vicinity, there is no doubt where the center of interest lies. So, thank you again, Judy!
During October, I worked on three major commissions and while greatly appreciated, that kept me from having more here to show for the month. I rarely post commissions here. So these are the others I was able to do in the remaining time.
This is a little different for me in that the palette and light are out of my comfort zone. And that's good. It is too easy to just keep painting what is safe and comfortable. This is likely a study for a larger future painting. See photo reference below for that one.
I had a great time with this one and its lighting from directly above. It gives a mysterious feeling with eyes shaded to me. And with that stern look, it definately has a mood. Also, other than the signature, this whole painting was done with the single brush shown below. It is wide and shaped like a chisel which allows it to be used like a caligraphy pen. I can get a fine line with it, fill in broad areas and when needed, just use the corner to get a dot.
About once a year I do a self-portrait and at the risk of seeming like a meglamaniac, it is a good thing to do. It gives one a chance to see how one is progressing , regressing or plateauing in terms of ability. And it makes one aware of the ravages of time. Maybe this isn't such a good idea!
I met Jean about three years ago when she came into the gallery and I was so immediately taken by her that I asked rught there if I could paint her. This is the third of her and maybe my favorite though it is the simplest.
Great scenes can also be found often in more intimate settings and always as a result of the play of light. A while back I saw this wonderful spot lit with the low shaft of light (like a spotlight) coming through a clearing to illuminate a group of birches at the peak of their autumn splendor.
I'm still painting Retro Cowgirls in preparation for the Celebration of Fine Art in Scottsdale next year. Some like the above, are quite small while others (see below) are much larger. I think the one below is my favorite of all of this genre I have done. That infectious smile really makes it fun, in my opinion.
I often say, "Every Painting Has a Story" and this one is a little embarassing. As we sped from one city to another on our trip to Spain, I shot several photos out the window in hopes of painting from them when we returned home. When I began painting from this one, I felt it needed a more interesting sky so I make it rain. As soon as I had that idea, I thought of the title, "The Rain in Spain" and was kind of pleased with myself, thinking it pretty clever. After finishing it, I posted it on Facebook with that title. A week or so later I realized that the reference photo was actually from a trip a few years back to Italy. "The Rain in Italy" doesn't have the same appeal, so I'll leave it even though it is on the wrong end of the Mediteranean Sea.
I met this young this young lady on her first day of work at the general store two doors down from the gallery and knew immediately that I wanted to paint her. She is, at the same time, very shy and very mysterious. I think the latter is that nearly half of her face is often hidden from view. I asked her dad if we could set up a photo shoot, got permission and was painting her in three days. Of the 252 photos taken, this best showed her nature, at least as I percieve it.
I have painted the Minot Farm quite a few times over the years. This one comes with a little feeling of melancholy though as the old couple who lived there both passed away within days of each other. He was a direct descendant of the man who built the house and barn in 1807 and 03, respectively. His son and grandson still live there so the line goes on. I have many memories of Alden and Betty and their passing was a great loss to the town as they were so dedicated to the town. He was town treasurer for 55 years! The fog of this morning carried the same melancholy feeling to me.
I painted virtually the same scene at the same time of day several years ago; something that I generally don't like to do. But the morning I shot this last winter seemed especially beautiful and I hoped that in the years since doing the first one, I had improved enough to warrant revisiting it. In the distance you may see the covered bridge. Our home is just the other side of it, thogh mostly hidden here. That first painting was called "December Morning" and I couldn't call the new one by that name. I thought maybe this one could be January or February which led me to think of Feb. 2, which is Groundhog Day. When that occurred to me, I immediately recaled the movie of the same name where the main charactor relives the same thing day after day. It seemed appropriate for revisiting the earlier painting.
As I have mentioned before, I love doing atmospheric paintings. They have a definite mood. But in this case the photo reference I had lacked a focal point. That was easily fixed by adding the sun filtering through the fog and its reflection in the water. This addition gave the painting a title.
Here's another example of artistic license at work. Often times it is not what to add for the sake of composition or interest; it is what to take out. In this case, there was much to clean up. There was a LOT of branches cluttering the photo but I could still see through to the important stuff behind. I did add a birch tree on the right too for some more interest. I also took the existing layers of hills in back and emphasized them for more depth. Lastly, I "cut" a path through those weeds on the far shore. When there is something in a painting that would prevent you from walking easily to the focal pint, it is also harder for the eye to get there. This path opened that up. A little change but a necessary one.
Composition is so important to good painting and I don't talk about it enough. Part of good composition is leading the viewer's eye into the picture place. I often do that with fence rows, footprints in snow or roads as shown here. And even though that barn is small, it is where i want your eye to go eventually. Though some of the rad is obscured, it is implied and leads your eye to it. Normally, I have to alter reality in a scene to accomplish this. But this scene was nearly perfect as it was. I just needed to remove some pesky power lines and poles in the foreground. Originally, I called this "Wet Pavement" but a comment from my niece Katie, spoke about that smell that is so evocative and so I had to remane it. Thanks, Katie!
Originally to be called simply "Swans", I thought of this title as I was working on the painting. I have no idea what that is supposed to mean but I liked the the way it sounded and created a bit of mystery or at least a question in the viewer's mind, I think. I'm not sure I have ever put so much time planning a simple painting as this one. I even had a completely different pose drawn on canvas and ready to go. But I kept coming back to this image. Also, I had to duplicate the single swan that is on the mantle to create a second one, believing that two are more interesting than one. Then I adjusted light a bit and finally tweaked the bottom of her sweater to give more of an angle to her hips which makes her pose a bit more casual.I think I'll make the bricks at the bottom darker eventually but overall, I'm very happy with this.
Sometimes painting is a joy with the pigment just flowing easily out of the brush and doing just what I want like magic. This was not one of those times. From the start this one fought me and kept fighting me right up until the last half hour. The texture of the canvas seemed to drag rather than glide, the paint felt gummy instead of creamy and proportions and likeness were off. Nothing was easy but eventaully, it came around. I decided to try something a little different from the beginning. Finding the skin colors used by my favorite living artist, Jeremy Lipking, I thought I'd give them a try even though they were nothing like what I normally use.
I was nearly done and at that point, not unhappy (but not thrilled) with the results. It seemed a bit dark and lifeless. I decided I'd add one warmer skin tone in the highlighted areas and that made a huge difference also making it seem more three-dimentional. So the final piece was a variation of his colors and my own. I think I'll do this more often!
While it may not look like it, this painting was a revelation for me. Something I probably should have recognized before but I guess I wasn't ready. For some reason, painting subjects who are lit dramatically from below are easier to paint loosely for me. Painting looser with more bravura brushstrokes is a great desire of mine for some time. So this together with the pose of outstretched arms makes this one of my favorite paintings of the year thus far. Painting loosely here was like letting go.
As an art teacher in the 70s and 80s, I occasionally gave the class an assignment to make a mural out of several pieces and then assembled into a larger whole. Usually they didn't know what the final would be, just working on individual tiles. It always worked and the kids loved the outcomes. I decided to do this entirely on my own from a painting I did a couple years back.
I first enlarged a photo of that old painting and then cut it into 48 pieces, all 2.5 inches square (at left above). Then I would enlarge that onto a 5x5 piece of masonite, trying to loosen up as much as possible.
As each was done, I'd lay it in its place on the floor.
Over several days, it all came together. The lines on one piece did not always quite line up with the next but they were close enough for your eye to "assemble" them into a coherent whole. The same thing happened as I was mixing the paint from one panel to the next. But if one was slightly darker or slightly different color than an adjacent piece, it still worked.
"I love your work but we just don't have any wall space left and we're down-sizing." Realist artists have heard this for some time and it seems like there was no solution. But I think this may actually be a good way to deal with the issue. Grandparents LOVE their grandkids and are more likely to commission portraits of them than are their parents who DO have the wall space. Once this ball started rolling, I was happy to get several more commissions in the space of 10 days.
I like paintings that have some mystery or possibly an open narrative for which people can make up their own stories. The danger in this one is only apparent if you know that those are lightning rods that she holding while in the midst of a storm. In reality, I only have one such lightning rod and so I had to move it around the model and then combine those photos together with others of sky and mountains to put this all together.
As you can see, we had her mother postition her other hand as if there was another lightning rod there. Also, I set a fan on high to blow the robe while the lightning rod itself was placed on top of a box to give it the elevation I wanted. Later the fan was moved higher so it would blow her hair. Of the hundreds of photos I took, I selected the best for each hand, robe and face and then sorted through hundreds of other photos I have of clouds and mountains for the best possible image.
I picked up an old curio cabinet at an antique store last month and thought I could use it as a frame. The idea then evolved to thinking it could frame two paintings that would relate to each other. So I photographed a great, new model, Molly, with a hood shading her eyes for a look of mystery on the front. Then for inside, I had her pulling the hood back to reveal her beuatiful eyes and face. To be effective, it had to be lit from inside or it would be to dark. So after much work and even more frustration, I finally was able to attach a small light under the front, top surface and hook it to a button to light up the inside as soon as the door was opened. I am very happy with how this came out. So much so that I may take it home and hang it there.
And here are better pictures of the paintings themselves. I really like how her eyes are just barely visible in the shadows of the top one and LOVE how everything came out in the lower one.
I also wanted to do a larger piece with this model. I gave her some extra space here as I liked the feeling of openness. It also gives the impression of being in an empty room by yourself. (at least to me).