ON PAINTING IN “PLEIN AIR”

Most landscape paintings begin with a vision: an artist sees something in a scene that is visually stimulating or in some way inspiring, and reacts to that impulse. The more faithful the artist can remain to that to that initial idea during the process of painting, the more forceful and convincing his artistic statement will be.

I am most inspired to paint when I work directly from nature.  When I can work with speed and confidence—without stopping to think and analyze. When I can let the painting flow instinctively from my brushes—only then am I likely to stay focused on the original landscape that I set out to paint.

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Getting started on Quiet Morning, Windham. It was the soft light and subtle play of violet hues and autumn yellows, as well as the symmetry of the cloud-shrouded Windham High Peak and its reflection, that caught my eye.

This exquisite location, along the Batavia Kill near Windham in the northern Catskills, is one of my favorite painting spots. In fact, I wrote a short blurb about this site, which was published in the February, 2005 "Plein Air Scout" column of Plein Air magazine.

Click on images to enlarge

I start every painting by drawing directly onto the canvas with a size 4 round bristle brush. Large areas of tone are then scrubbed in with a large filbert—first the darkest values, then the middle tones. I often state the brightest highlight, or strongest color early on (note the yellow in the distant trees), to help establish the entire range of values.

Very quickly I get the canvas covered. Note that the space and quality of light already are clearly established.

After nearly two hours, or so, I am nearly finished. I find that the longer I look at a scene, the more I see. Always, there is a temptation to add more detail... to fill in a little more of what my eyes can see. The key to sucess is remembering my initial impulse. Why did I begin the painting? What caught my eye about the motif?

With Quiet Morning, Windham, I believe that I came very close to overworking the surface. As I continued to add dead branches and refine the rendering of the shoreline, I began to detract from the simple statement with which I began.

 

Quiet Morning, Windham, oil/linen, 14"x 22"

The completed painting, photographed in the studio.

To see an example of a painting that died because I overworked it, check Knowing When to Stop.

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