When I travel without my paint, I get figidity. What to do?

I just got back from 4 days in Lincoln, Nebraska for my nephew’s high school graduation. It was a great trip. In between events, I’d go for walks (wherever I was), sit down and sketch a bit. They say you should always carry a sketchbook, but I usually forget. Remembering that the purpose of ad-hoc sketching is to better your skills, does it matter what you sketch on, or what you sketch? Hey I may not be the “Master of Blight” (William Wray), but I can learn from sketching anything, including a trash can.

BTW, Katherine Tyrrell’s blog, “Travels with a Sketchbook” provides some great examples and discusses technique.
Here are a couple of quick sketches of downtown Lincoln.

And here’s Mike and I with our nephew Nick Cruickshank. Congrats, Nick!

Great paintings have a great underlying abstract design, typically based on 3-7 large abstract shapes of value. If you’re a representational artist, don’t fool yourself: perfectly painted detail only matters if it sits within a broader design of interesting abstract shapes. Those few big abstract shapes will make or break a painting. No amount of detail can save a poorly designed painting.

As painters, we’re at a big disadvantage in our rapidly evolving culture of shorter attention spans and immediate gratification. How much time do you give a novel before you decide to finish it? Hours, probably days. The average viewer of a painting evaluates it in seconds, and then may linger for minutes if they like it (watch people in a museum

The eye first registers the big abstract shapes, delineated typically by value differences or sometimes hues of the same value. In any case, that first impression is of shapes, not subject matter. Abstraction is hugely important to get the viewer’s eye, but you’ll keep the viewer based on the painting-within-a-painting. Think of the abstract design as the first layer and the detail, color, subject–everything else-as the ‘icing on the cake” that the viewer will enjoy once you’ve got their attention.

When I paint, I start with a notan sketch that identifies the 3-7 big shapes of value and keep each shape together by staying within the value family of the shape. I then have fun within each shape with color, texture and warm/cool, saturated/gray color. Here are sample notans where I’ve taken the same scene I tried different designs:

Sample Notan Sketches - Click to Enlarge

Here are some tips for designing a painting in effective abstractions.

• Design a value scheme with at least one dominant value, and others subordinate in unequal proportions.
• Divide your picture into at least 3 and no more than 7 shapes. Here’s a quick and easy exercise you can do anywhere: with a sketchpad, look at a scene, and decide where those 3-7 big shapes are, and draw them as interlocking shapes. You’ll almost certainly have to make compromises to abstract the scene, such as merging values together, but this is a necessary part of design (see notans above).
• Limit your values. Some of the strongest designs are just 3 values. it’s really difficult to keep to a solid, limited value structure, but well worth it.
• Here’s a tip to simplify your values: If–like me–you’re near-sighted and wear corrective lenses: slide your glasses down to look at the scene (blurring it) and view your work surface with your glasses as you look down. If you don’t wear glasses, blur your view by squinting (note this is less effective as squinting also darkens your view). I almost always paint most of my painting without my glasses on as I love focusing on accurate color and value first. It works!

Snow Creek - Oil on Linen - 10×8″ - Private Collection

As per previous posts, I’m working on some paintings based on my reference photos and sketches from Rocky Mountain National Park. I hope these are helpful. I should probably take more photos in between stages, but here’s at least three.

Here’s the drawing. I focus on general shapes and identify the darkest area of the painting. For these underpainting darks, I mix Sap Green and Alizarin Crimson until I get a neutral between the two, then I mix a little “California Blue” (a custom mixture of Phalo Blue and Garbazole Violet, a wonderful really dark blue when Ultramarine is not dark enough…BTW, I got this mixture from Brigitte Curt, who in turn got it from Ovanes Berberian).

Here’s the underpainting. I use a medium (again Ovanes Berberian’s, 40% linseed oil and remaining Damar Varnish and Gum Turpentine). I focus on bright color underpainting, varying warm and cool. I don’t focus on values, which is difficult to do.

And, here’s the final painting. I wonder if the water is too garish/saturated?  Perhaps I should neutralize these blues?  What do you think?

Rocky Mountain Stream - Oil on Linen - 11×14

Just back from Chicago tonight, had a great time. Weather was perfect. The days before we arrived were unbearable, high heat, high humidity. We suffered some rain, but other than that, great weather. We lucked out!
I was inspired by Katherine Tryrell’s recent travel sketches to do some of my own. I rarely use watercolor, but that’s the best travel medium, so I took a small kit with me to sketch with. Of the several I did, these are the ones I’m most comfortable sharing. I’m really an oil painter, so whenever I paint in watercolor it’s like a new world.

Mike (my partner of 17+ years now) finished the Gay Games marathon in 4 hours, 21 minutes and 23 seconds. Plenty of time to sketch! I did these quick sketches on a small pad while others waited. I’m really proud of him. Imagine running 26.2 miles, without stopping over 4+ hours? And to think I occassionally participate in a day long “drawing marathon”. No comparison.

Marathon Wait #1 - Watercolor

Marathon Wait #2 - Watercolor

At the recent Gold Country 2006 Plein Air Invitational, I had a conversation with artists that is fairly common: do you want to be known as a “Plein Air Painter“, or just simply as an “Artist”? The reason we have to ask ourselves that is due to the fact–largely–that collectors would like a label that easily identifies a genre. They focus on plein air as a category of art.

The term “plein air” has gone through good times and bad, at least as one that collectors focus on. The truth is that plein air is both a technique/genre for finished works, as well as an important learning ritual for artists. Painting in front of your subject, outside, in natural light is the best way to learn how to do the same in the studio. Imagine painting the Grand Canyon from photographs, without actually having been there? Sure, it’s possible, but the artist wants to conveny a emotional response, and the best way to do so is to experience the subject first hand.

My own approach–like that of many–is to use plein air to fuel my larger, studio works. It’s fairly impractical to paint a large work on location due to changing light, without bringing the canvas back a few days during the same time of day, with exactly the same lighting conditions. The early impressionists, such as Claude Monet, followed this approach.

Below, I’ve shown the evolution of an artistic idea in three stages. In the first, I focus on design and placement in support of a desired emotional outcome and how I believe the eye will travel on the canvas. I wanted to focus on how the last bit of light lit the tops of Eucalyptus trees I observed while painting in Los Olivos, CA. To make the tree appear dominent, large, I extend it beyond the canvas. I balance the tree with a nearby smaller one, and with the distant hills. I represent the strong glow of the light by both the tree top colors as well as the far distant hills.

This three step process is common for me: design; study (plein air); and studio (larger work). You may click any of the images below for a larger view.

The image below is the 8×10″ study, at the underpainting stage. Here, I’m focusing on design, drawing, and identifying the big shapes. I’ve used a linen canvas board toned with pure Yellow Ocher to give the painting a strong sense of warm light.  If the abstract images at this point aren’t interesting, chances are the painting won’t be either.

The image above is the completed 8×10″ study. I know, I should have taken more pictures between the underpainting design and the end… Next time

I used the study to produce this 16×20″ final studio painting, “Last Ligth, Eucalyptus”.

If you’re a painter and have been exposed to many other working artists (in workshops, plein air events, etc) you’ll notice some commonalities in how we paint, and certainly lots of individual differences. One significant difference I’ve noticed to the practice of toning your canvas. Most plein air artists agree that a start white canvas working outdoors (even in the shade) is very hard on the eyes. It also detracts–I think–from one my goals, which is freedom. I want to be loose! Have fun! I don’t want to see bits of stark white showing up here and there. It’s a distraction.

Artists have solved this problem by toning their canvas, either at their painting site or in the studio. For the uninitiated: toning is the practice of deadening the white of a canvas with a color, usually in a light to mid-value range. Toning on site has it’s advantages: you can select the undertone to match the scene more closely. However, the disadvantage I see is that I believe it usually results in slightly more grayish, muddy colors. And I love color.

What color to tone? This is a rather difficult question, there are so many exceptions, and by the way, some artists only tone one color all the time. I vary my tone. Ted Georschner tones with a Yellow Ocher; Ken Auster tones with a medium value gray. Both undeniably master artists, so there is no right or wrong answer. Its what you’re comfortable with.

I tone an equal number of linen canvas boards with Yellow Ocher and with Gray. I’ve studied with both Ted and Ken, and I’ve seen the value in both–depending upon the circumstances. Basically, I use a Grey tone on paintings where the light is Grey-ish (eg, night scenes, cloudy days, etc). I use a Yellow Ocher tone when I want a strong feeling of sun light. The details of two different paintings below demonstrate each approach. The gray I use is a Golden Acrylic Gesso, and I mix the gray myself using a combination of Paynes Gray and Cadmium Red (both acrylic, of course). The Yellow Ocher is Classic Artist Oils, right out of the tube.

This is a detail from a snow scene in which I used a gray toned board. It was quite cloudy, and there was a lot of gray in the picture. Made life easier.	This is also a snow scene detail, but there was bright sunlight strong. The bits of Yellow showing through the canvas add a sense of light.

So, what’s right for you? You’ll never know, until you experiment. Happy Painting!

PS. A toned canvas must be dry thoroughly before you apply paint, because it can easily wipe off. I dry my toned canvases (and even finished paintings) in my oven. Don’t laugh! I have about a dozen pilot lights in this old Wedgwood stove, may as well use that energy for some purpose. I leave them in for a day or two (no more, otherwise the boards can warp).

Here’s another page from my sketchbook.  This was done in the small village of Aurel, France.  I took in the scene, and looked for a combination of shapes and values that lead my eye.  The arrow drawing on the right is the desired eye path, and the end point, which I assumed to be in the window of the lower-right.  A center of interest that is centered on thirds (top-third, lower-third, both vertical and horozontal).

In the bottom drawing I drew the composition and kept notes on the scene. It was really striking.  This is something I can take back to the studio and paint.

Here’s another example of a sketch I do (before I paint!) to figure out the design/composition, and how the eye moves within the painting.  The asterisk represents the start point, and the arrows represent where I believe the eye will be lead.  The top-left composition is based on a triangle.  I think the eye will start at the top-right building (because it sits higher than the lines below it), the eye to follow down, and then lead back up either via the distant hills or the bottom of the hill line.

This is another example of a sketch I did in France to plan out a painting.  I use shapes and values to lead the viewers eye around.  This composition is based on a circular plan.  I actually never ended up painting this, but it’s a good example of the type of planning that can really help you create a successful painting.