New Video - Composing in the Field

I've finished and uploaded the latest video in my Plein Air Essentials series. This one is Composing in the Field, a 7-minute video of how I go about isolating my subject, creating a design around it, making thumbnail sketches and more. Price - only $1.49!

(And if you haven't seen the others, I've got a nice little collection of these mini-videos available. The whole series would make a nice Christmas present for an aspiring plein air painter!)

Go to my Lulu store for them: http://www.lulu.com/miragenm

Getting the Big Picture: Large-Format

"December Morning in the Desert" 24x30, oil/canvas - Finished Version

Followers of my blog will remember that, about two weeks ago, I dragged a 24x30 canvas, along with my Beauport easel, a bag of paints and my Classic EasyL box, up to the Schnebly Hill parking lot. In the field, I worked on the piece over two separate three-hour sessions, and then I posted a photo of "our story so far."

Since then, I have gone back up to Schnebly Hill, but to do an 8x10 study of the scene. I wanted to zoom in on the terminator between light and shadow at the foot of the distant mountain. I needed to refresh my memory of how dark the shadow was in relationship to the light and of the quality of temperature contrast between the two.

I also invited a friend over to take a look and give me some feedback. M.L. Coleman (www.mlcolemanart.com) suggested I break up the large, green area of vegetation between the chasm and the mountains a bit more. He said, "The painting is more about rock than about greenery." I completely agreed with him.

So, over a couple of afternoons this week, I made my adjustments. Using my study as a reference, I increased the contrast between light and dark along the distant terminator; pushed the mountains farther away with lighter blues and purples; and dug up some shrubs in the middle ground and exposed more rock. I also added highlights here and there to "punch up" the center of interest and pathway for the eye.

Now, as you know, I'm a committed plein air painter. Most of what I do is outside, and to be outside is always my preference. I'd say this piece, even though about one-third of my time was spent in the studio, still qualifies as plein air. What do you think?

Composition - Books

I'm starting to work on a mini-video on Composition. For the video, I've pulled out some of my favorite books that deal with composition. These are:

• Edgar Payne - Composition of Outdoor Painting
• Arthur Wesley Dow - Composition: Understanding Line, Notan and Color
• Andrew Loomis - Creative Illustration

Below are the covers plus a page from each. (I don't have a copy of Dow's book with me, so his page is from another but similar text on composition he wrote.)

Payne is pretty much a traditionalist, going with the old ideas of "templates" for designing your field compositions. "Templates" is my word for it, for lack of a better. You've probably heard of the "balance beam" design, or of designs based on letters of the alphabet such as S or U.

Dow, although he died in 1922, a good 25 years before Payne, was a true modern. He looked at Japanese design influences and latched upon the idea of notan, or a play of light and dark shapes. He stated that composition can't be taught; it must be learned by looking at good paintings. (It's hard for this painting instructor to tell that to his students!)

Loomis is a different cat altogether. A master illustrator, he used some of the ideas Payne wrote about, but he also dove deep into what he called "informal subdivision," in which he concocted a system for dividing a plane into a framework upon which design elements might be hung. He probably comes closest to using the Golden Mean than any of these. (By the way, you can get the Loomis book as a free download here.)

When you're out in the field, it's good to think a bit about design. Sometimes we get so wrapped up in trying to capture the magic that we forget about something so fundamental.

A Visit with Leslie B. DeMille

Leslie B. DeMille and a quick pastel demonstration he gave me.

(It's not a portrait, but an illustration of a particular technique he uses.)

DeMille's taboret.

I recently had the opportunity to visit and interview master portraitist Leslie B. DeMille. It's rare that I actually get to visit an artist of that caliber. I do most of my interviews for The Pastel Journal and The Artist's Magazine by telephone and e-mail. Since I tend to live in remote places, interviewing in this way works well for me. But I always prefer a face-to-face interview, when I can get one. There's real magic in making the personal connection.

Of course, Sedona isn't as remote as Tierra del Fuego. We're only two hours from Phoenix. But, it's a detour off the Interstate, and it has a population of only 12,000. Although there are plenty of good artists here, several of which have national reputations, I thought I knew the names of all of them. So imagine my surprise when an artist friend visiting from Georgia mentioned she had just come from a visit with DeMille down the road. He lives about 8 miles away as the crow flies. (It's more like 20 miles when you have to drive around Oak Creek to get there.)

At 83 years young, he is an inspiration to me. When I called him to set up an interview, he was on the golf course. When I went out to visit, he was preparing for a trip first to California and then to Ontario, Canada - all to be followed by a trip to England to gather reference material for a commission. No grass grows under his feet!

DeMille been doing portraits for 60 years, and he has done thousands. Known at the "Artist of Champions," he's painted commissions of sports greats such as Arnold Palmer and Jack Nicklaus and also heads of state such as Ronald Reagan. I'm glad to have met him. You can meet him, too, in my interview with him in The Pastel Journal next spring. (Scheduled for the May issue.)

My Paintings Aren't Drying

I've been painting two weeks with students in oil, and we've been having a great time working out the issues with Sedona's red rocks. If you've not been to Sedona before, the red rocks can be overwhelming - the red jumps out at you, especially against the green junipers, and that's all you see. I do my best in getting the students to understand that the color isn't really as intense as it seems at first glance.

Strangely, my paintings are taking a long time to dry this week. Except for today, when we're having some overcast and showers, we've had above-average temperatures. It's been downright toasty out in the field. I've been stripping off my fleece jacket and just painting in my shirt (and, oh yes, in pants, too.) So, it's a mystery. I'm using Titanium White, and that usually dries fast enough for my needs. But now the paintings are building up on the "wet painting" shelf. I've even had to move some over to the window sill.

Here are a few pictures of the paintings in situ. Hopefully, they'll dry in time for the next workshop so I can make room for more! As they dry, I'll scan them in and talk about them individually.