Lately I have been so very scattered and I know it is because I have not 'allowed' myself enough creation time. And by that I don't mean the physical act of making art-as we all know it's the 'before' time to process that fuels the work.
November, Remains of the Day
mixed media on canvas, 8x8in, 2011, available
But I see light at the end of the tunnel-a winding down with business and personal issues that are getting in the way. So today was my transition day. I went for a long rejuvenating walk-and it started to snow! It was light, gentle, tentative -and like a cleansing-then the snow melted and left without a trace that it was ever there.
Back in the studio around 5PM, I glanced out the window and was struck by an incredibly turquoise and pink sky. I grabbed a wee canvas and just responded. Change is often sublte but in a matter of hours can be so splendidly different.
Below is an earlier work, a first snow in December 09, but it put me in mind of today's transition.
The image below was made as respite from the paintings I am working on for the February show, although I may include it as it relates to the theme.
Initially I wanted to explore the field, as I love the way is sits this time of year. The dormancy and texture put me in mind of a tapestry, and the particles lifted and swept by the wind remind me yet again that nature is never still-minute microcosms playing in the air.
But when I got into the painting the sky seemed to take over and I let it. My Mother, who passed away less than a year ago, loved the yellows in a grey November sky. I remember our November walks and country drives-pulling over to the side of the road to marvel at the simple splendour of a November Sky.
As I’ve mentioned before, I often like to paint on top of older paintings and that’s exactly what I did here as I thought it might add to the texture of the field. There was a lot of red in the under-painting which I think added to the depth in the land portion. I did, however, prime the sky portion with aluminum and am happy I did as the greys and lighter hues retained their clarity more so I think than had I not used it. I did get carried away though-when the painting was very wet I gently dispersed some fine aluminum powder throughout the sky as well as in the field-in hopes of emulating the wee field particles caught in the shifting light. It did work-depending on how the light hits it there is a subtle trick of the eye quality-a bit of movement.
November(She loved a November Sky)
Niagara Escarpment
oil & aluminum on canvas
30x30in, 2011
Unfortunately because of the aluminum’s reflective qualities, it makes it REALLY difficult to photograph. In the actual painting, the tones and value shifts in the sky are closer-the top left more subdued and even and the willow tree on the lower left horizon line much lighter/brighter. I will let the whole painting dry and re-shoot.
This is the other small painting made last week during my plein air hiatus-it was a very grey misty day yet with evocative light meandering in and out.
The painting below was made last week during a 'plein air hiatus' from the large works going on in the studio...
November
oil on aluminum primed canvas
11x14in, 2011
available
*And I am sure by now most of you have seen the 'Murmuration' video-good to know that nature has gone viral!
I can't get enough of it, so here it is-Rhonda and Katherine V I can't help but think of you....
I was painting in the studio today and time got away from me so didn’t get out for a walk until the sun went down. The fresh air was quite brisk and it was invigorating to be out in it after such a long day. I love how the fields look this time of night-full of mystery! On one side of the field the sky held smokey clouds highlighted in crimson and yellow from the just-departed sun, and on the other side was a full bright moon in a luminous blue haze.
When I got back I made these little paintings on small canvases that were primed with aluminum pigment. I worked with hardly any paint, mostly dry-brushing and wiping out passages to reveal the reflective aluminum. It’s difficult to photograph works on reflective surfaces and one can’t see the nuances in tone but I’m quite pleased. I think that I will work larger on the same surfaces-if I ever finish current paintings that I have on the go!
'For me November brings a new cycle of inspiration and tends to be one of my most prolific months. As I write there are already a couple of ‘Novembers’ waiting on the easel in various states of ‘undress’.'
It's funny that these words, written last November, apply to this one. I am still madly working on some larger studio works (not the same ones). But since the weather is behaving this week, I have managed to sneak out for plein air breaks. They still need some fine tuning so in the meantime, an earlier 'November'-and yes, they are the same trees out of my studio window that you have seen in previous posts.
I think one of the main reasons I paint outside is to let the natural world transport me from the responsibilities and worries that life tends to throw our way. And it doesn’t have to be painting- hiking the same path daily with my dogs will continually show me something new-whether it be the milkweed-open right now with fluffy cotton seedlings waiting for the wind, or red sumac standing against cobalt sky-or the sight of deer out of the corner of my eye, standing very still hoping that I won’t see. Nature is pretty f#ing amazing, and lately I have been thinking about how much I have ‘gotten through’ because of it.
This is an older painting, but one of my favourites:
November always seemed to me the Norway of the year. - Emily Dickinson
The leaves were falling on all sides like the last illusions of youth under the tears of irremediable grief. A brood of chattering birds were chasing each other through the shrubberies, and playing games among the branches, like a knot of hiding schoolboys. Every landscape is, as it were, a state of the soul, and whoever penetrates into both is astonished to find how much likeness there is in each detail. - Henri Frederic Amiel
Autumn, the year's last, loveliest smile. William Cullen Bryant
November
oil on aluminum primed canvas
11x14in, 2011
available
I have been using pure aluminum powder with my encaustic works and today I thought that I would try it as a ground for my oil paintings. I have, in the past, painted straight onto steel but was curious to see how a stretched canvas ground, primed with aluminum pigment, would take the brush and paint. I quite like it so far as application. This was painted fairly thin and I am wondering if, once it settles a bit, any of the reflective qualities of the aluminum will shine through...(in a good way I hope)
Yesterday I held an encaustic workshop and actually remembered to take some pictures. I am usually so busy that I never get time to take pics and regret it afterwards.
This was a really nice session with just two willing participants, so they had lots of hands-on time.
I will share techniques including photo transfer, collage, colour, glazing, layering, drawing, printmaking, mono type and,new: cold wax/oil techniques.
Classes are enjoyable for those with no previous art-making experience as well as returning artists who want to further explore this alluring and tactile medium.
Below are a few examples of the versatility of encaustic painting.
*These encaustic tapestries are from a 1998 series that I embarked on after becoming interested in ancient cultural icons-please excuse the glarey photos.
I've been working all week on a large painting in the studio and trying my darned-est to ignore the fast-changing colours of the land outside.
I did need a break though-what I find about working on large paintings are the continuous choices and decision making throughout the process-from start to finish. I require complete concentration so I can fully engage with the work so schedule at least 7 hours per session for large scale paintings. This exhausts me after a few days and I find I have to switch gears.
Time away from the work is just as important as the work itself, allowing for consideration re where I will go with the work and why, as well as reflect on and distill what I have learned from the process.
so in the meantime....
Today the strong winds were dancing with boughs and branches before throwing last leaves to the ground - I just had to catch the whirling remains before they, too, surrendered to the season.
October
oil on canvas
11x14in, 2011
available
*for those who follow my work this will look familiar. It is the view from my studio window and I have painted -and will paint-it many times. These same trees are featured on top of this blog, but on a foggy November day.
Against eternal light and gorgon's face
Day is the shield
And we the grass
Native to fields of iron, and skies of brass.
Kathleen Raine
October, Remains of the Day
oil on canvas
30x30in, 2011, available
I’ve had my eye on this field since Spring. It is behind my property and through the years, different crops have been planted. When my neighbour told me that it was soy this season, my heart jumped. I love the russet colours and mottled texture that it becomes in the fall. (I prefer to think that it isn’t GMA)
As lagged as I am from my trip, I just had to get out and paint. To to be greeted with perfect fall weather-warm, sunny, low breeze and no bugs-irresistible- there won't be many left..
When I planned my recent journey to Germany, I also, with a lot of help, mapped out a detour before heading home and made a train ride pilgrimage to Amsterdam to visit the Van Gogh Museum.
I have experienced Van Goghs’ work 'live' in California as well as here in Canada but needless to say I was so very moved by the body of work presented in this museum. So much so that I held back tears more than once.
Like many artists who depict the natural world, I feel a symbiotic connection with Van Gogh. Throughout the years I have developed a deep regard for his unwavering faith in his work and his courage to continue on in his own path-despite the onslaught of obstacles that he endured. And when he could endure no more, he took his life rather than take a different road. I admire a lot of artists who go out in the land and paint; but only a few I feel deeply in regards to how they become one with the land with such raw, honest emotion.
It was fascinating to view Van Goghs’ influences (so much more than I realized re Japanese), the artists who influenced him, and artists that were influenced by him. It was also riveting to follow his earlier dark works as they brightened in their chroma and varied in malleable application. I was also quite pleased to see works that I have never seen in print (and through the years I thought that I had seen them all!).
In all the works depicted, I found his self portraits to be unnerving-I can’t put into words the expression in his eyes –but I think if I did not know anything about him, I could see everything in them.
A while back I posted a note about a new website that depicts all of Van Gogh’s letters-here is an excerpt from the museum’s site.
The letters of Vincent van Gogh
October 2009 saw the culmination of the extensive and prestigious Van Gogh Letters Project. Fifteen years of research into the correspondence of Vincent van Gogh by the Van Gogh Museum and the Huygens Institute of the Royal Netherlands Academy of Arts and Sciences will be crowned by this special exhibition, the launch of a freely accessible website encompassing the complete research results and the publication of a six volume book in three languages. Various aspects of Van Gogh's letters are also highlighted in the iPhone application and the Van Gogh blog.
I also visited the Rijksmuseum, which houses many of Rembrandts' works, as well as Vermeer and many Dutch masters. Rembrandt lived and painted in Amsterdam so it was really a thrill to be here and experience this exhibition.
It also holds artists whose work was inspired by Rembrandt and I was interested to see the influence he had on Degas and his development as an artist. Depicted were small portraits and etchings of Rembrandt rendered by Degas, presented with works rendered by Rembrandt.
I am still in Flensburg, taking a wee breath to catch up on the other side of my life. I was hesitant to bring along my computer but so very happy I did. I can still listen to CBC radio in English and also do research-as well as visit the artists’ blogs I so enjoy.
Although I did get some painting done here I will refrain from posting just yet. So far this journey has me filled with such overwhelming emotion and exceeded any type of expectation I might have had. No time now to sort the words and get them down.
The leaves are turning here and remind me that summer has officially gone, so I thought I'd share this painting, rendered a few years ago.
In the last post I mentioned that I did not have much time to paint before my trip. Well, I've just contradicted myself. Today was so beautiful I could not resist temptation and got outside for some plein air.
September, (feels like October) oil on canvas, 18x24in, 2011, available
I’ll be travelling to Germany next week to visit my Daughter. She is living in a small village on the Baltic Sea very close to the Danish border. Although I am extremely excited to be spending time with her I am feeling apprehensive because of the language barrier. She says not to worry - even in that remote village, most people at least understand English—but I can’t help feeling anxious… I am sure once I get there I will feel differently. In staying almost two weeks I hope to drink in as much art and architecture as possible. But what I am very intrigued with is the Baltic Sea. I have been doing some research and will pursue this by bringing along some materials for art-making.
Needless to say with all the preparation for the trip I don’t dare attempt to make the time required in resuming studio works in progress—so I have been stealing time in my field -preparing my palette and backpack ahead of time-to save time-for catching patches of sky at the remains of the day…
September, Remains of the Day, (1) oil on canvas, 11x14in, 2011
September, Remains of the Day, (2) oil on canvas, 11x14in, 2011
Last September my painting comrade and I set off outdoors with very large canvases (at least for plein air). The hike itself was quite an undertaking, making our way through tall grasses and the kind of weeds that tangle around ankles in order to trip and maim. Trudging through the dense unruly field and uneven ground resulted a few tip-over’s for our gear-laden wagon, but we soldiered on. The destination?-a heavenly perch on a field of purple alfalfa, garnished with loaves of earthy hay that had been sitting since June.
September (detail left)
The view from the hill looks down at least half a mile to a vineyard and beyond to an open field speckled with a few distant farmhouses (omitted from my painting).
September (detail right)
We painted from afternoon until early evening and were completely immersed in our work. At one point I shifted my eyes to check the light and there before me stood the silhouette of a little woman. At first I thought she was an aberration, but then Dora saw her too. It turns out this wee Irish lady caught sight of us from her farmhouse below. Overcome by curiosity she climbed through the tangly weeds and made her way through muddy vineyard rows (in her proper shiny shoes and tidy cloths) just to see what we were ‘up to’. I love that-artists aren’t the only curious thrill seekers. But the encounter did put the kibosh on painting any further, which was fine as I managed to get down the composition and build up some of the masses enough to use as a guide when I resumed the work. But it is another that I put aside in hopes to get back to it in this new September. And I did, however this time working in the studio by intuition and recall. I thought I would post it as some passages are perhaps not yet resolved. Right now I am too close and need to look again with an objective eye.
Today was a total washout-literally-my friend & I got absolutely drenched while painting in the vineyard-wind /rained washed the paintings right off of our 30in canvases-foolhardy pair we were-
so a wee pear of a different sort, created in a DRY studio....
My studio is beginning to look like a produce market with Bartlett pears from the fallow orchard, tomatoes from our garden and my favourite, Ms. Aubergine! I find it absolutely impossible to resist the allure of her shape, colour, texture and gesture.....
