Recent Demos

I was able to take a group of lighting TD's from work outside to paint last week, and we were graced with pretty good weather.
We painted from ridgelines, went to a small lake, and spent a few afternoons in a small Redwood forest. Here are some of the demos I did during the week.

Ways of Working (gear talk)

As I'll be teaching a workshop in the Sierra Buttes in a few weeks, I wanted to do a post talking about my setup, present and past, to take any mystery out of it, as well as help inform those that are contemplating the purchase of an umbrella, a pastel box, backpack, etc. The photos above shows the way I'm currently working. I'm using an allinone easel, mounted on an old Manfrotto tripod. I can adjust it to comfortably work sitting or standing. This is a 10 x 14 pochade box, which has a hinged foam core panel to mount your paper on. There is storage behind the easel, which is held by velcro. I made a simple storage pad out of glassine, canson, and cardboard, to hold blank paper, as well as finished art, which fits in that space. I can also use the pad to mount paper on for a vertical composition, as shown in the top image. As far as umbrellas go, I've used a variety of them over the years, losing several every year to unexpected gusts of wind. I am currently using the bestbrella, which has worked well for me for the last 7 months. One improvement over other umbrellas is that it is silver on the outside, and opaque black on the inside, reflecting heat, and eliminating diffuse glare. A white umbrella can over illuminate your work under certain circumstances. The mount is extremely sturdy and adjustable.

Everything fits into the backpack below, plus a bag for the tripod, and the umbrella mount. If I want to, I can secure the tripod bag to the backpack to keep my hands free. To choose a backpack, I simply went to a sporting goods store with all my art supplies, and started trying to fit everything into the packs they had on display. The folding camp stool is from there as well. Other items I carry are a camera, usually looped through my belt, water, sketchbook, and and wipes for my hands. It's ok to have extra room for snacks, extra clothes (windbreaker, hat).




Here's a typical setup by the side of the road. No umbrella needed, as it was an overcast day.


The above image shows the way I worked for about 10 years. Same stool, backpack, and tripod as I currently use, but a large, wooden pastel box from Dakota Art Supplies. Also shown is one of the many umbrellas that took a beating over the years.
Below is me finishing one last piece before hiking out on the last day of a packtrip in the Sierra. Note the white umbrella. The dark one's provide a more balanced shade than the white umbrellas, imho.



Here's an 'ultralite plein air' setup: One small box of pastels, many of them cut in half to accommodate more colors, a tracing pad cut down for storage, with a same size sheet of foam core to clip paper to. The whole thing fits in a zip-lock bag. Just sit on the ground and start painting. I took this setup backpacking last year, and had a similar setup for a raft trip down the Grand Canyon a few years ago.


The truth is the gear is of less important than the experience. At the same time, you want equipment that will be comfortable, reliable, and easy to use. Being able to stand, or sit, as well as control your shade, are very useful 'tools' for working outdoors.
You have more options about where to paint that way. Lastly, consider the weight of everything. An 'ideal' setup is the one you're willing to carry with you for a couple of miles.

Sonoma Plein Air

I spent last week painting up in Sonoma County for the Sonoma Plein Air event, which I have been fortunate to attend for the past 8 years. It is a wonderful event for the artists, and hopefully for the residents and patrons who so generously put up the artists in their homes and guesthouses, while we roam about the valley and paint. The weather was less than ideal for the 5 days we were allotted to paint, with rain, drizzle, wind, overcast skies, being predominant. Thursday was the lone exception to that. You should also take a look at the blogs of Terry Miura and Robin Purcell for their perspectives on the week. You might also check out the work of Paul Kratter on his website and you'll be able to see some of his work for the week. Here's a few of the pieces I did with some notes.


The sun often rose into a diffuse cloud cover, which softened and attenuated the light considerably in brightness. I abandoned another painting to start this one, when I realized I wasn't going to get the lighting I was expecting.



Scenes of this sort are common to the lower end of the valley, as the land is sectioned into vineyards and small dairies, bordered by roads and windbreaks of Eucalyptus trees. The weather during this week was rather dynamic, so whatever lighting situation one might begin a piece with was unlikely to be there midway through it. A lot of my work was done in the rain, or a combination of direct light and overcast, which lent my work a patchy quality, as well as a rather grey nature, as is represented in this image. The most interesting thing about this piece for me was the visit of a very large king snake, which came slithering towards me, flicking it's tongue, and eventually disappearing under the mat of dead grass a yard from my feet into a hole, perhaps in search of a meal.




This was painted up at Sugarloaf State Park, a few miles north of Glen Ellen. I have visited it the last few years when I come up to paint, as it is often sunny when the valley a thousand feet below is shrouded in morning fog. Adobe Creek runs through the park, carving a small channel, and exposing a range of boulders and smaller rocks. There are other types of views as well, but I have a fondness for boulders, water, and foliage patterns, which this view had in abundance.



I had spied a small waterfall when driving up to the park, and went back in the afternoon to paint it.



Also painted at Sugarloaf Park, trying to leverage my success of the previous day. Instead, the light was gray, and I went looking for qualities that compelled me to paint. This is a fragment of a landscape... really only a few square feet in area, but I liked the contrast in the shadows below the beautiful hues of the mossy root, the gradient of greens on the grass, as it curved upwards from the gully to face the sky, as well as the tones on the rock. Even the dead oak leaves started to interest me with the way they broadcast their orientation to the sky through a compressed range of value and temperature shifts. In such a small portion of nature, all sorts of subtle (and not so subtle) cues were operating about light and form, the only exception being atmosphere. But why would it be any other way? The 'rules' apply regardless of scale... there's the lesson!

Off to Sonoma and more regional shrubbery

I'll be headed later today to Sonoma county for the annual Sonoma Plein Air festival, and will be exhibiting a week's worth of work in the county next Saturday, May 22, in Sonoma Plaza, along with many other fellow artists such as Terry Miura, Paul Kratter, Randy Sexton, Carol Hesse-Low, and Tim Horn. Below are a few pieces from the last month or so from over my back fence, and one from the shadowed recesses of Pinehurst Rd., which is awash in forget-me-nots for a brief period of time. Hope to see some of you in the plaza next Saturday. Hope we get some good weather, or mist and local color will be prevalent.

The Temptations of Complexity

In looking for subjects to paint on the hills and ravines around my neck of the woods, the combined textures and forms of various plants are intriguing to my eye, but also a challenge, as certain shapes and sizes are hard to execute with the blunt instrument of the pastel stick, and the variety of foliage textures can be daunting. In facing a 'persian rug' of patterns, I look for a breakup of the major shapes of the image plane to have a design that I can hang everything on regardless of the subject. I'm finding that value patterns, whether strictly defined by the effect of light and shadow, or mass of a form, or some combination, are what I'm relying on for this underlying structural support. There's a lot of drawing problems I'm encountering in these pieces, so much more work is needed on my part to really decode and even accurately get the proportions of certain forms down.
Tree trunks are analogous to the human figure in gesture, pose, subtlety, etc. I'm struggling with the simplest statements of this. Ferns are amazingly elegant, and I can only hint at that right now... 'there's a fern here'.. There's an endless variety of ideas to explore out in the big colorful 'mess' of nature. Spring is here...everyone get out and paint!

The green goes on

In a few months the world I'm painting will be shades of gold and violet along with the green.
I worked today on the hill behind my house for several hours and did three pieces, two of which were
off the cuff challenges: a random clump of grass, and a tree shadow coming off of a trunk on a steep hill.
They were worthwhile exercises, but didn't bear fruit. I have a lot more to learn about painting grass... and tree trunks.
The other image in this post is from last week, looking into a shadowed space on the hill with the cherry blossoms
poking up.

Beyond the back fence

Still studying the complexities of trees, shrubs and grasses on the hill behind our house. It is an interesting challenge to try and imply what's going on. I have been looking at some of Richard Schmid's work, and I think it has infected me a bit. He often paints very complex trees in front of equally complex architecture, and does it beautifully. He sets the bar pretty high for his edge control, as well as a mixture of very tight, and very loose handling of paint in the same image. At this point, I'm just trying to paint a tree in front of itself. Research continues.