**Authentically Human! Not Written by AI**
Where to start? |
"There's so much here—I don't know what to pick."
These are words I frequently hear from students when we get to the field. But believe me, even as an experienced plein air painter, I sometimes hear these in my head, too. Some locations can be so rich that they offer a wealth of possibilities. As frustrating as it may be to have to pick just one thing, if I want to get anything done, that's what I have to do.
This is where the camera on my smartphone comes into play. Used as a cropping tool, it allows me to focus on what interests me, eliminating everything else around it. (A ViewCatcher or homemade tool also works.) I'll first zoom in so that the subject fills the screen, and then I'll zoom out a bit, taking in more and more of the scene until I get an assembly of elements that pleases me. Next, I turn to my sketchbook—mine is only 3.5"x5"–and work out a few thumbnail value designs as I described elsewhere in my blog.
What do I look for in a scene? It's helpful if the subject attracts me in some way, either through an arrangement of light and dark shapes or color play. (In a workshop, depending on where the instructor takes me, I may not find an attractive subject, in which case I try to select something that relates to the lesson at hand.) Also, what I pick depends on my goal for the day. Maybe I'm just looking at color relationships, so I'll worry less about a pleasing assembly of elements. If want to paint a vista, I might zoom out quite a bit to take in a wider view, and aim for responding to the feeling of a place.
I do all of this before even setting up my easel. That's because I may not yet have settled on my subject and might choose to go on down the trail a bit more.
But once I do settle, I consider where to place my easel. Sometimes, I can get a better angle on my subject by moving a few feet left or right. This is especially true when painting architecture, when I want a viewpoint that will present the angles of roofs and walls in a way that won't confuse my viewer. Complicated architecture, like Victorian mansions, which have lots of odd roof angles and bric-a-brac, can be confusing.
I also consider lighting and personal comfort. The best lighting on your palette and painting surface is even lighting; I like everything in shade, whereas some painters like direct sunlight (which I find blinding.) I also want to make sure I'm on even ground. I don't want any rocks to trip me up when I'm "in the zone" and not paying attention to my footing. In addition, I try to anticipate what's going to happen with my environment, taking into account sun movement. I want my easel to stay in shade—I refuse to take the extra weight of an umbrella on my outings—and I don't want to have to move it in mid-stroke. And if there's wind, I try to find a tree or rock outcrop to serve as a windscreen.
Finally, I think about the possibility of human interaction. If I want a quiet, relaxing experience, I don't set up by a shuttle stop. I mistakenly did that once, while painting at the Grand Canyon, and a busload of tourists suddenly flooded around me. (In my defense, I will state that the stop was hidden behind several large junipers, and since I had come up the trail from a different direction, I never saw it.)