It's not easy being small

Posted by Maggie

I recently had the honor of jurying the Small Works Exhibition for the Pastel Society of New Mexico. This is a presentation of small paintings which is shown in conjunction with the organization's annual juried national exhibition. 

The paintings were amazing. All in pastel, of course, and all within the limit of 48 square inches, or, say 6x8.  That's pretty small.

But that got me to thinking about another show held here in New Mexico as part of the Masterworks exhibition—the miniature show, which has a size limit of 20 square inches. That would be 4x5 or some other proportion which added up to 20 or less.

When I paint with pastels, I think of 9x12 as small. My favorite sizes are 16x20 or 18x24. If glass wasn't so expensive and so heavy, I'd probably work even larger. I love the freedom of movement of a large surface, the expressive sweep of a stroke of pastel laid down swiftly and firmly.

But, having juried this show, I decided I'd try my hand at a really small painting, using the under 20 square inch limitation of the Masterworks miniatures. I used as reference an oil painting I'd done on location not long ago, which was 6x8. How hard could it be to reduce that to fit onto my little scrap of paper?

Very hard.

In case you haven't noticed, most pastel sticks are big. I particularly like the fat square Ludwig pastels, the really fat round Richeson handmade soft pastels, and quite a few others, none of which I'd noticed were not small. Until I tried to work in those little tiny areas of my painting.  The final painting, which will probably not go into a frame because I don't have any frames that small, is Arroyo on a Gray Day, 3.5x5.5 on Pastelmat, ©Maggie Price.

Now I'm going to go paint something big, like maybe 11x14.

Colorado Paintings, Part Three

Posted by Maggie

Our second full day of our mini-vacation in Colorado did not start out as planned. We went to one of the painting locations we'd selected the day before, but the light was very different and we weren't happy with it. We decided to go paint the pond we'd looked at the previous day, but on the way there, realized that the morning light would not give us the same reflections we'd seen the previous afternoon. So we took a drive up a mountain road to a trail head where we knew there was another pond, surrounded by tall pines, that often has beautiful reflections. The road isn't long, but you can only drive about 20 mph or even less, and you have to watch for deer and other critters.

We finally arrived only to find the pond covered with an unattractive brown scum, and no reflections whatsoever. We took the long drive back down the mountain, and decided to have lunch, go hiking and then return to the other pond with great afternoon reflections a little later.

It was worth the wait. The light was perfect, there was a slight breeze, and we were able to set up our easels right on the edge of the road. The reflection of the mountain, trees and grasses was stunningly beautiful.

I'm enjoying using Pastelmat for plein air paintings. The surface feels smooth to the touch, but you can put quite a few layers on it, and it grabs the pastel and doesn't let go. The ability to quickly cover the surface is a real advantage when you have to work fast in changing light. For this subject, I chose  dark gray (I think they call it anthacite) which gave me the dark value to start with. The hill in the background was covered with pine, but had lots of deep blue shadows. I concentrated on implying trees rather than describing each one, then moved quickly to the fun part, which was the reflections and the objects reflected in the water. I love painting water with reflections, but this was one of the first times I'd tried it on Pastelmat. (I usually use Richeson Premium Pastel Surface or Wallis Sanded Pastel Paper for this kind of subject.) You can't really do any blending on Pastelmat unless you practically fill the tooth, but I didn't need much blending anyway, so I was happy with it. Afternoon Reflections, 9.5x12, ©Maggie Price.

Although we were only a few feet apart, Bill chose a little different view, and concentrated mostly on the water. He worked on a 9x12 piece of white Richeson Premium Pastel Surface on Gatorfoam. In spite of beginning with white, he was able to quickly get the rich dark colors he wanted in the water. His subject is mostly about the water and reflections, so he moved the land mass up in the composition to emphasize the water. In comparing our two paintings, I think I like his composition better. Mine is divided a little too evenly between land and water. But that's the thing about plein air painting—especially when the light is changing fast, you have to make fast decisions and you might later wish you had done something differently. I really like the moody quality of this painting of Bill's, Roadside Attraction, 9x12, ©Bill Canright.

By the time we finished these, it was time to head back for dinner. We left for home the next morning, having enjoyed a brief, but rejuvenating, retreat to the southern Colorado mountains.

Colorado Paintings, Part Two

Posted by Maggie

Our second pastel painting session was under entirely different light conditions than the first session of the day (see Part One for the first session's paintings). Many clouds had moved on, although some that remained were as storm-threatening as the earlier ones. I had hoped to paint the river, but it was muddy brown from the previous day's rain, so we chose a spot along the road not far from the river. Both of us selected subjects involving buildings, though we were looking in opposite directions.

I never used to paint buildings. I didn't find them interesting, and when you're painting outdoors, the light changes so fast you can't spend a lot of time drawing. But once I started teaching workshops in Europe, I learned to love painting structures. They can add an interesting element to a painting. I also became comfortable with the understanding that my paintings done outdoors are field studies, and that means I'm looking for accurate color and value, and an understanding of the light and weather conditions and how they affect the way light and shadow describe form. So my drawing doesn't have to be perfect. It also helps that many of the buildings I end up painting in Europe are falling down.

This subject appealed to me because of the shape of the road, and the way the house is mostly hidden by the hillside in front of it. I felt it gave the building a little sense of mystery. And I didn't have to draw the whole thing! Most of what you see is roof and chimney, and the rest is implied. I also liked the shapes of the cloud formations, and blocked them in very quickly. They were soon gone, but I had enough information to complete them. Fall is just coming to this valley; there were touches of yellow and even orange in some trees, and the odd bushes in the right foreground were already yellow, rusty red and orange. I worked on a light gray piece of Pastelmat, almost exactly the local color of the gravel road. It was interesting how that neutral color worked for this late morning light. Left, River Road, 9.5x12, pastel on gray Pastelmat, ©Maggie Price.

Bill chose a subject in the opposite direction, with very different light. The tall trees almost obscured the buildings, giving them a mysterious, moody quality. He worked on a black surface (Colourfix), which really helped set the mood right from the beginning. Bill often works on black. He says his favorite part of the painting is putting in the highlights and on a dark surface he gets to do that right away. There's a bit of the dark surface showing here and there in the darkest areas, and it works really well. I really liked the bit of blue sky he put in the top left corner and how it complemented the rest of the composition. Left, Pump House, 12x 9.5, pastel on black Colourfix, ©Bill Canright.

By the time we finished our second session, the winds had picked up and were threatening to blow over our easels. The afternoon got windier still, so we spent some time taking photographs and picking out a painting spot for the next day, described in  Part Three.

Colorado Paintings, Part One

Posted by Maggie
August was an intense month. We had a long trip to the east coast in July, so Bill spent much of August catching up on all those things that pile up when you're away for weeks. For me, the month was computer-intensive, as I prepared files with convention information and registration for the International Association of Pastel Societies' Ninth Biennial Convention.

So we needed a break. We didn't have a lot of time to go far, so we went to southern Colorado, a lovely location southeast of Pagosa Springs. It's a place we go often and know well, so we can jump right into painting without having to spend a lot of time learning the landscape.

Our first painting day started with clouds—lots of clouds. They were moving fast, but not really threatening rain. We set up along the edge of a lightly-traveled road, looking over the valley, which is ringed by mountains on three sides. Our vista was of a fairly low range of mountains and hills, mostly covered with forest.

I've been experimenting with a relatively new surface, Pastelmat. It comes in a number of colors, but for this piece I worked on white. Normally I start a landscape painting by painting the sky, but for this subject I blocked in a light layer of color over the land mass first. While we were setting up, I'd noticed the occasional light hitting the trees and creating brilliant patches of lighter greens, and I hoped I'd see that happen again. Patience paid off, and when the light illuminated an area, I quickly laid it in. At the same time, I noted the breaks in the clouds with a sky-blue, then massed the clouds in as fast as I could. I particularly liked where the clouds drifted over the tops of the mountains, and put that in place the minute I saw it. The clouds moved and shifted before I could finish them, but I stayed with the composition and just looked at other cloud formations for color and value. In a little less than an hour, the light had changed too much to go any farther, so I stopped. Left, Fast-Moving Clouds, 9.5x12, ©Maggie Price.

Meanwhile, Bill began with a warm gray piece of Colourfix paper, and chose a vertical format. He concentrated on the clouds first, and since he was looking in a different direction, his clouds were a little more stormy and threatening. He mentioned that he's more used to working on the Richeson Premium Pastel Surface, and in fact had thought that's what he picked up, but the Colourfix has a little less tooth than the Richeson. However, it was sufficiently toothy for a quick field study. Once he had developed the cloud formations, he quickly blocked in the land masses and the foreground trees. Left, Storm Chaser, 9.25x10.25, ©Bill Canright.

We packed up our supplies, headed back to the cabin for a quick snack, and then moved down the hill to our next painting destination, described in the next blog, Colorado Paintings, Part Two.

Venice Revisited

Posted by Bill

Normally I avoid back-lit subjects because too much of the scene is nothing but silhouettes. However, Maggie took a photo in Venice a few years ago which caught my eye because of the wonderful sparkling water and the easily-interpreted action of the gondolas. Our guy in the foreground was clearly waiting for the others to get out of the way.

The reference photo was taken just following a rain so everything was clean and the air was clear. The photo had a few modern boats in the distance, but I liked the timeless quality achieved by leaving them out. The photo tried, as usual, to lead me astray—in this case, with a blue sky and turquoise water. I tried painting it that way, but it didn't work, as the sky and water seemed unrelated. So I put a little turquoise in the sky.

The photograph also had a solid, featureless shadow going from the gondola to the bottom of the frame. I thought this made sense as the vertical planes of the gondolas were solid silhouettes, but when I made the shadow solid, no matter how much I fiddled with it, it just didn't work. It finally dawned on me that the water was horizontal and that if had I been standing on the dock looking at it, I would have seen ripples even in the darker water. Changing that really worked.

The final painting, above left: The Patient Gondolier, 24x18, © Bill Canright.

In the photograph, there was also a weird thing poking out of the back of the boat that looked like a detached leg pointing at the sky. This definitely fit the rule: "If you don't know what it is, don't paint it." On the other hand, If I'd left it in I would have had a name for the painting. I could have called it A Leg Up.

If I'm ever in Venice again I am going to try to figure out what it was. Perhaps someone reading this can enlighten me.

The Hat Dilemma

Posted by Maggie

I almost bought a new hat a couple of days ago. There was a really nice one on the clearance rack—white, with a nice large brim, and a fabric that would handle being stuffed in a suitcase to take on a painting trip. It was tempting.

I already have a few hats. I just don't like any of them.

Bill says you have to approach the subject of hats with the idea that all hats are stupid-looking. Then you just pick the least dorky one, plop it on your head and go. I'm not totally happy with knowing that I look dorky. Especially when we're painting in Europe, where I stand out far too much anyway, because of my un-dyed hair, my jeans, and my comfortable shoes.

So I thought about buying that new hat, but then I decided to come home and take a good look at the ones I already have. I pulled them out of their various hiding places.

When I don't take a hat on a trip, I end up buying one. That's how I got the white one from the Royal Botanic Gardens in Sydney, the blue one from Barbados, the straw hat with the colored bands from Mexico, and even the purple baseball-cap from Scotland. All the rest of them have been purchased in an attempt to find the perfect, comfortable, sun-blocking painting hat.

My current painting hat is the sage-green one on the right. It's lightweight, washable, can be packed without too much wrinkling, has a big brim to shade my eyes and a great long flap on the back that keeps the back of my neck from getting sunburned. But it's really, really dorky-looking.

So maybe I'll go buy a new one after all.

Bad photos

Posted by Maggie

I've said for a long time that painting from bad photos can be a good thing. When you have a bad photo, you know you have to make changes. It frees you from the temptation to copy your photo, and the resulting painting can move far beyond the photographic reference.

But there are bad photos, and then there are really bad photos.

Bill and I try to walk every morning. We know it's good for us. But some days, the only thing that gets me out the door is the scenery. We're lucky to have a wonderful walking trail that begins just across the street. We have a spectacular view of the Sandia Mountains from our front window, but it's even better on the trail.

As we approach fall (okay, it's already fall, but I'm in denial), the sun rises later each day. Consequently some days it's just coming up over the north end of the mountains as we start out. I never remember to take my camera, but I always have my phone in my pocket. (No one calls me at that hour, thank goodness, but I just can't go out the door without my phone.)

So I took these photos of the sunrise, and the resolution on my phone camera is, admittedly, bad. (I haven't upgraded to the iPhone 4 which supposedly has a better camera.) I printed them to paint from, and all the detail was gone. The color wasn't too bad, but then again, it wasn't too good. I wanted to combine elements from the two photos, and in the end, I also had to rely on memory.

I struggle to keep from putting in too much detail. With these photo references, it wasn't as hard as usual when I'm working from photos. I couldn't see any details.

I'm really happy with the mood, atmosphere and lack of detail in the finished painting. The combination of the two photos worked well, and I feel I managed to understate rather than overstate, for a change.

Maybe I won't upgrade my phone, and maybe I'll paint from phone photos more often!

Above left, Morning Walk, 7x9, pastel on Pastelmat, ©Maggie Price.