Headin' West -- And Packin' the Oils

This week, I'm heading to Sedona for the Sedona Plein Air Festival. I'm one of 30 artists lucky enough to be invited to this prestigious event. (Check out www.sedonapleinairfestival.com) I'm looking forward to painting the red rocks and the yellow cottonwoods, which are spectacular this time of year.

When I agreed to do this event, which culminates in a Patron's Gala and art auction, I lived in New Mexico -- just a day's drive away. Now I live in the Canadian Maritimes, and from there it's hard to get to Sedona even in one day by plane.

Strange as it may sound for a travelling, professional artist and workshop instructor, I have not yet -- until now -- had the experience of flying my art materials. Typically, my wife and I drive to events and workshops, no matter how far away, since we usually work them into one of our annual cross-country trips. The one time I did fly, I ordered new materials and had them drop-shipped to my destination, and then I shipped them back on the return.

So, with the new, tighter TSA flying regulations, you can understand I was a little nervous about this trip, especially with oil paints. I made sure to stick a sheet of paper with the phrase "Artist's Colours, Made with Vegetable Oils" in the box I packed the oil paints in, along with a sample MSDS (Manufacturer's Safety Data Sheet) and a copy of Robert Gamblin's newsletter on travelling with these items. (See www.gamblincolors.com.) I checked EVERYTHING -- "artist's oil colours," brushes, pochade box and tripod.

I was also worried about luggage loss. So, I made a detailed list of the items I took along with their value, and then I took photos of the contents of the suitcase. Here are the photos:

The good news, the luggage did not get lost. I flew from Portland, ME, yesterday to El Paso*, TX, and now it's now in my hands, and ready to drive with me to Sedona. I'll post more as events unfold in Sedona. ========================================== *(Why did I fly to El Paso? It has nothing to do with the Rolling Stones, who are giving a concert in town tonight. But wouldn't it be nice to get tickets?)

Lower Duck Pond, Lowering Sky

"Once in a while, you do a painting that is five years ahead of you," says my friend and mentor, Ann Templeton. This little plein air oil (8x10) seems to me to be in that class, but then, I won't truly know for another five years, will I? Others may also disagree with me. But I liked this painting and its expressionistic colour instantly. I'm not sure if the day looked exactly like this, but it's what came out of the end of my arm, green sky and all.

The scan doesn't show it, but the sky and the water to the left were painted with very thick paint, which conveys the feeling of a heavy, "lowering" kind of day where it'll probably rain in the next hour or so. Other paint is applied a little less thickly, but I still wouldn't call it thin. Toward the end of the session, three hikers came through, and they gave just the sense of scale I wanted for this broad expanse of beach and the long swatch of red, dried-up rockweed along it.

"Lower Duck Pond, Lowering Sky", 8x10, oil, e.p.a.
(as always, click to enlarge!)

Focus

A still life painter uses a box to contain his oranges, apples and pears as he paints. This box gives him more control over lighting. But it also serves another purpose. It separates the arrangement from distracting backgrounds and the clutter of the studio.

The plein air painter has no such box. Whatever his subject, it sits in a world that writhes with distractions. Another interesting tree-shape, a building with a curious door, a colorful swath of meadow -- all things he didn't see at first, and all of them just outside his chosen frame -- compete for a place in the painting.

If we plein air painters had such a box, fewer of our paintings would go astray. If we could carry out to the field, say, a duck blind on wheels, and paint inside that looking out, we might have better luck. But since "portable" is our motto, we must seek a better option. That option is the very portable one that consists of sheer will power. It's the ability to give up what else we would like to include and to stick with our first choice.

Where I live, which is by the broad ocean with breathtaking vistas of sea cliffs, I am often tempted to take in an extended range worthy of Albert Bierstadt. But when I set up my pochade box and my usual 8x10 panel, experience tells me to settle for less. If my first choice was a stunted, storm-blasted tree jutting up out of a field of wild roses, that is what I paint. I forgo the scenic piles of driftwood just outside my chosen view, and the scallop boats trawling the bay, and the waves crashing on the most distant cliffs, and -- but you get the point.

I tell myself that life is long, and I will eventually paint all those other scenes. This is not true, of course, but it does take the pressure off.

Finback

Lately, I've been drawn to rocks. It seems that many of the paintings are of interesting formations that stir up some antediluvian fantasy. Here's one. It's a rock over by Liberty Point. I call it "Finback" because it does look like a fin, and we do have finback whales here.

The challenge was the shadowed side of the rock. There was so much light bouncing around that the shadow had to be quite light, but still function as shadow. Keeping the shadows on the "cool" side and the light on the "warm" side worked well. I was able to push the value of the shadows high, but have them still read as shadow by keeping the temperature consistent.

"Finback", 9x12, oil/panel, en plein air (PLUS detail shots!)

An Old Tradition Renewed

I write the occasional piece for the web-based ECVA* newsletter, and in the August 2006 issue, they've published "Plein Air Painting: An Old Tradition Renewed." If you're interested in reading this, please click on this link.

For your viewing pleasure: "Upper Duck Pond, Sky and Water", 8x10, oil/panel, en plein air

*ECVA stands for Episcopal Church & the Visual Arts. Web site address is www.ecva.org