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One of the reasons I paint is so that I can say to my viewers, Look what I saw today! Knowing what you like to look at is a good indicator of what you should be painting.
I love to look at bridges. I know it's nostalgic to paint covered bridges, but I like all kinds of bridges, and I like to look at them from different angles. I especially like the lacy quality of some bridges against the sky.
Here's the bridge over the Kennebec River in Bath, Maine. I painted this from a riverside park just before I went to the State Farm office in Brunswick to collect the insurance check on my poor totaled car. It certainly cheered me to be back painting after a troubled week and a half of dealing with the accident.
Know what you like to look at!
To give unity, I started with an overall wash upon which I could build succeeding layers. Next, I chose a color nearby on the color wheel to create a midtone. Finally, I added darks closest to where I wanted the viewer's eyes to land. The resulting painting has an overall cool color dominance with some warmth added for contrast. Some areas were left white for extra "pop". The buoys in the foreground were included to break up the rather rectangular area of water, and also to guide the eye to the lobster boat where it could begin to circulate among the elements of the wharf.
I chose to paint on dry paper for this painting which creates all hard edges. This is a good subject to experiment with painting on a pre-wetted page to have some underlying soft edges. I can also switch to a warm dominance. So many possibilities!
It might be a bit before I get back to my regular blogging, but I wanted to let you know why.
Monday my car was hit as I started across an intersection here in Boothbay Harbor. My car was demolished, and so now I have to deal with rental cars, insurance details and getting a new car so I can drive home to Missouri. I may not have much time to paint in the coming weeks, but I may dig back and find some older work to discuss. Don't give up on my blog; I love teaching and sharing my work. Thanks for your patience.
I first learned about the power of underpainting by studying the work of Robert E. Wood. Painting an abstract first wash can unify the painting by providing a table upon which to place your subject matter.
The underpainting can either be hard-edged, achieved by painting on dry paper, or soft edged by painting on a pre-wetted page. The underlying shapes can be predominantly vertical, horizontal or oblique. A color dominance can also be established. If a warm underpainting is chosen, putting a secondary wash of cools over it, especially near the focal point, will draw the eye by contrast.
In this painting of a wharf, I chose a first wet-in-wet wash consisting primarily of turquoise and violet. After this was dry, I repeated those colors in the second wash, but added some warms in the upper part of the main building, on the hull of the lobster boat and in the barrel on the dock. I tried to keep the shapes large until the very last details were added at the end.
This technique is not as easy as it first sounds. But limit the number of colors while you create the abstract pattern in the underpainting, and you will have a better chance of success.
Over-mixing two or more colors can occur on the palette or the paper. The more you squish the colors together, the more uniform and dull the resulting color. To avoid this problem, you can use two methods.
First, tilt the paper to at least a 45 degree angle. Now you can rely on gravity to do some of the mixing for you.
Next, brush on a wet, juicy swatch of pure color, say alizarin crimson. While this first wash is still very wet, apply another color, maybe a blue. Run this color across the area. Do NOT keep going back and forth over the same spot! Start with another brush load of paint right where you left off the last one. If you want to gradate the value, add a little more water to your palette color. Let gravity do its thing, and the two colors will mix.
The second way to mix colors on the page takes a little more patience. Put the first wash down and let it dry COMPLETELY! Then load up your brush with the second color and a fair amount of water. Make sure the water goes all the way up to the feral. Then stroke the second wash on top of the first, being careful not to push down into the paper. If there is enough water and paint, you can just use the tip of the brush. Gravity will release the water from the end of the brush, and you won't have to press down or go back and forth over the page. That's where the "mud" comes from.
Here are some exercises I did for my student yesterday. In the first one, I just went around the color wheel. That takes the pressure off in deciding which color to use next. In the second exercise, I used the same colors, but not in the same order.
Practice will give you confidence. If you are hesitant and slow, the water will go damp instead of wet, and that will also result in an unsatisfying mixture.
I'm teaching a private student for two days. Today's lesson was on mixing colors on the paper rather than mixing them on the palette.
I started by mixing the primary colors to create the secondary colors: blue and yellow make green, blue and red make violet, and yellow and red make orange. (bottom row).
Then we mixed complementary colors on the page to create a range of grays. (Top row) Blue and orange (actually burnt sienna which is a dirty orange), green and red for a cool gray, and yellow and violet for a warmer gray.
Next I painted the quarter sheet sized painting of the lighthouse and beach. My point was that literally translating green pine trees a uniform color and tone doesn't produce much excitement or credit for being accurate. Exciting color comes from mixing the colors on the paper, juxtaposed just enough that the colors bleed into each other. Going back and forth over the same area with too many brushstrokes over-mixes the colors and will make them appear muddy. Put down any warm color, then immediately paint a cool color next to it so the two bleed together. Continue to apply color as you did in the practice squares.
Finally, I showed Laurel how to remove some paint by applying wet strokes to the dry wash mixtures, counting to ten slowly, and then wiping the area where the clear water is with Kleenex. That created the trees, the sun and its reflection, the petals and the lighthouse. Then you can glaze over the initial wash with some darker values.
These practice exercises are the equivalent to practicing scales in music. Don't stop practicing. Practice until it becomes second nature, and then you can speed up your painting decisions and keep your washes fresh and lively.
As much as I love rocks and islands, paintings of them can be rather mundane. There are several ways to liven up such a barren scene.
First, color. Accurately painting gray and brown rocks can sometimes kill any enthusiasm for the literal results. Splashing in a hint of pink or turquoise or a pathway of moss covered rocks can give interest to an ordinary scene.
Second, light. Connecting the light shapes will not only help guide the viewer's eyes, but provide a mood.
Third, consider putting some figures in your landscape. That will immediately draw the eye and give actual life to the scene. The tiny man-made object in the distance, the schooner, also suggests human presence, without taking over the main theme of granite and limestone rocks.
(And don't make the heads too large or round!)
Non-artists, as well as non-watercolorists, often ask me how I start a watercolor. In this watercolor I decided to paint everything that wasn't going to remain white first. I started with the wet in wet sky area, but painted right over the roof and the shadow parts of the dock building and then into the water. I seldom stop the first wash when it gets to an area, like the roof, that is going to eventually be darker. I changed colors subtly along the way, but when I got finished with the first wash, most of the entire page was covered. That was allowed to dry.
When I came back in, I glazed the second wash as a warm pinkish hue right on top of the cooler blues. I splashed in a few yellow ochres here and there to warm up the second layer. I then completely dried this second wash.
I used the third wash to loosely define some areas on the building by cutting around barrels and crates to emphasize them with a darker toned background.
The last wash involved the reflections in the water. I painted them in one pass, gradating the value and color as I went.
Last, and most scary, I had to throw in some accents (not shapes) of wooden beams and hoists which overlapped everything that came before. I was also careful not to make the flagpole as dark as the foreground verticals, since it would draw attention away from the focal area. Other accents at this finishing stage included the distant boats out on the horizon.
In short, I didn't paint any objects in the first wash. I try to think of the first wash as the unifying layer. No boats, roofs, poles, buildings; just a large mass of unifying color. Glazing warm over cool, or cool over a warm first wash, will build up richer, un-muddied color.
If the focal point and major subject is the lobster boat, finding ways to balance the other objects and the background is paramount to create a pleasing composition. First, I balanced the right side of the painting with another lobster boat. The dark building on the left side helps to frame the subject and prevent the eye from going off the page. The boat on the left far side and the house to the right on the far shore break up the water shape and the tree shapes.
The dock and boat with their textures and warm colors keep your eye in the foreground. Gradation in the water leads the eye back to the reflections in the water.
All of these things take some fore thought and planning. A good composition is created with balance in mind.
When on location, I often tell my students to keep it simple. But that bit of advice can go right over the heads of a person who is bombarded with so much information. The temptation is always to include as many details as possible. So the advice to Keep It Simple, Stupid (KISS) remains a mere slogan rather than a practical solution.
So, how does a painter keep it simple?
1. Squint at your subject. This will help you see shapes more easily. While squinting, concentrate on identifying shapes: rectangles, triangles, cones, silhouettes.
2. Also while squinting, your eyes will filter out the little details that some students feel so obligated to include. windows, doors, shutters, shingles, lattice work, etc. Those can be added later when the major shapes are solidified.
3. Also while squinting, find the three major values: lights, darks and midtones. That will be helpful in deciding what to paint first.
4. Finally, avoid trying to duplicate the actual colors in front of you. Decide on two or three colors and the grays that they create when combined. Simplified!
And since I'm simplifying my advice, I'll stop there!
Sometimes I have to remember that zooming in can come in aid of the subject. Depicting the entire harbor scene can confuse the viewer about what you are drawn to. This boat just attracted my attention because of the 'bimini' which shaded the wheel house area.
I also had a great running conversation with the captain of this vessel. He and his friend kept going back and forth to get ice and other supplies for their brief sail out in the bay. They were quite entertaining, assuring me that I had another 45 minutes before the boat sailed. Sure enough, I finished just before they set sail.
Zoom in and eliminate details out beyond the primary subject.
Sometimes, when my more realistic approach to painting a subject fails, I resort to a technique that involves an abstract under painting. Using a dominant color gives the painting unity before you paint the subject matter on top of it. I often use a complementary color near the focal point. The edges can be hard or soft in the under-painting. I tend to use soft edges.
After two tries painting this scene realistically, I had two pea green messes. So in frustration, I turned the paper over and wet the entire page and then flooded it with violet shapes, adding yellow near the focal area. When this was dry, I added the darker shapes of the subject matter on top of the under-painting, ignoring the background. I used basically the same two colors in the overpainting that I had in the abstract first wash.
Robert Wood was a master of this technique. His book has a whole chapter on this approach. Practice this idea many times, and eventually you'll get the hang of it. It's a liberating way to approach your subject, and will help you avoid the trap of painting the literal truth of a subject but missing the vitality and liveliness of its hidden truth.
I went to one of my favorite painting locations today on the east side of Boothbay Harbor. Sometimes, when nothing strikes me immediately, I tell myself to be patient; maybe something will happen.
Sure enough, suddenly right in front of me, the Friendship sloop The Bay Lady sailed right past me, and just as she passed, the first mate started taking down the sails. That action and the warmth of the sail gave me the impetus to quickly jot down some details.
Of course, I've painted this little sloop many times, so I could rely on memory for some of the major ideas. But the sails, which are actually pretty white, looked almost yellow to me this afternoon. And I also tried to memorize some of the rigging lines. I would estimate my time to memorize the details I wanted to include lasted all of about 30 seconds.
Later when tourists come by, they, of course, look puzzled. "Where do you see that boat?" Sometimes I like to mess with their heads and say, "Wait. You mean you can't see that boat?" They slowly back away with worried looks on their faces. (See entry about The Bore Who Came To Stay, "Onlookers" July 26th. This is another great technique to get rid of unwanted visitors, as some people are inclined to believe that all artists are ready to slash their ear off at a moment's provocation.)
But again, studying, sketching, looking intently for details you want to include are all a part of producing plein air works. Train your eyes as much as your hands.
This summer I've been teaching a private student about the elements of drawing. That has inspired me to get my sketchbook out again. I love the quiet study, sitting in an Adirondack chair on my dock here in Maine, sketching my cove or my back yard. Today I went to my weekly happy hour at Robinson's Wharf a bit early so I could sketch some of the lobster boats tied up to the dock. When I was finished, my friends introduced me to the captain of the lobster boat I had sketched. My easel and my sketchbook have opened a door to the local fishermen that wouldn't have happened without putting pencil and paint to paper.
Be willing to put yourself out there to the locals around you. It's a reward beyond money and official praise!
One more Queen Anne's Lace painting.
Silhouettes of rocks are relatively easy. But as they get closer, you need to add some texture and vary the color a bit. Some dry brush gets the texture done. Be sure to alter the value and temperature of the rocks as well.
Choosing subjects is an eternal concern for realistic painters. But at certain times of the year, the matter of picking a subject is made easier by the reappearance of certain items. In August here in Maine, for me it's the blooming of Queen Anne's Lace.
I know it's a weed, but its lacey quality appeals to me. How to achieve that delicate look is a problem that I choose to solve without the use of any masking agent. Rather, I drag a dry brush around the half-dome shape of the flower. Then I use a very small rigger to dot some pinpoints in the interior or along the edges. Finally, I add some shading to give a rounded, three dimensional feel.
The background surrounding the flowers has sometimes been a problem. In the past I've darkened the area around the flowers in a uniform dark value. Nowadays, I darken only one side and gradate to a mid-tone by the time I get to the other side or the underside of the flowers.
Here are two examples of the ongoing August series.
There was so much to paint at historic Fort Edgecomb where the Plein Air Painters of Maine gathered to paint today. Signs, water, trees, the fort, the fences and flowers. My problem was elimination and placement. Everything seemed to conspire to place my chosen subject, the fort, in the center of the composition and to eliminate anything that detracted from that subject.
To avoid that problem, I moved the fort slightly to the right and balanced it with the sign structures on the left. I threw in a couple of figures to break the straight treeline, and concentrated on making the fort one shape rather that including every shingle and window opening. The sky was overcast, causing the fort to be in a flat light, so I consciously decided to invent the sun's position in the sky so as to create the planes of the fort to be in shadow, and the cast shadows to help emphasize the lights on the building. I eliminated many elements, such as the fences, other signs, and the foreground subjects so that the fort was the main subject.
I was surprised that many of my fellow painters had chosen to come to Fort Edgecomb but not paint the subject that was most obvious. If you come to a site which has an obvious emphasis and paint only the natural elements --trees and water--then why did you come to this location? Avoiding an architectural subject that is so prominent doesn't seem to make much sense.
I found many other possible subjects at this site and will probably return there sometime this summer.. More to come!
Some subjects require careful drawing on the paper prior to painting them. Other subjects merely need a light sketch to indicate placement and size. But sometimes I like to start in painting with no pencil lines at all, rather just a firm idea of where everything will be.
On the topic of erasing the pencil lines after the painting is completed. Most of the time the paint covers up the lines. In lighter values, though, sometimes the lines remain visible. That doesn't bother me at all. In fact, I think that it is interesting to see the plan that the artist had.
Be careful not to become an artist who colors inside the lines. Just because you've drawn a line doesn't mean you can't leave an edge soft or merge shapes by using the same values where they meet.
Above all, be flexible. If you do use a line drawing, don't become a slave to it. Evaluate and adjust the plan as you proceed. Rigidity makes for a very mechanical look. Swing that brush and splash away!
Yesterday my friend Tracy L. who is visiting from New York City, came with me to Ocean Point because she wanted to watch me paint. She had no idea how a watercolorist proceeds and was very attentive as I worked from light to dark, large to small, and smooth to a more textured area in the foreground.
Early in the painting stages, a man came by and started the conversation by stating that he, too, was a painter. But he was the kind of onlooker that I've come to know and dread over the years: The Bore Who Came To Stay. He wanted me to look at photos of his oil paintings right when I was in the middle of a tricky wash. Then he wanted to know how much I charged for my work, not because he was interested in buying, but because he wanted to gauge how much he should charge for his own work. He didn't ask permission to take photos of my painting; he just barged forward and took them.
How to swat away such outdoor pests? Sometimes, if they are standing too close, I "accidentally" splatter water on them. I also have taken the painting off the easel to dry the first wash in the sun and purposely leave it long enough for them to get bored watching paint dry and exit. If they begin taking photos, saying they are going to copy my work, I explain copyright laws and that they could be sued. Then I ask them their name.
Most people are very considerate and complementary when they see an artist on location. I enjoy chatting with interesting viewers. Once in a while, if I really like the conversation we've had, I offer to let them pose in front of my completed painting with one of my brushes. That never fails to draw smiles! But sometimes The Bore Who Came To Stay will start to distract and annoy. It's nice to have some ammo in your repertoire to shoo them away so you can get back to work!
I'm still playing with the complementary colors red and green. In this painting of a boatyard in East Boothbay, red and green are mixed to a neutral gray in most instances, the result being a painting largely dependent on strong values. The two pops of pure color occur in the figures. They stand out mainly because of the neutral grays.
Next I will switch to another complementary combination, either yellow and violet or blue and orange. Experimenting with color will help you get over any painter's block you may be experiencing.
Red and green....Complementary colors. Neutralized red, neutralized green, warm bridge house, warm beach, and that warm spot of red on the clam digger. The red of the clam digger's shirt is contrasted against the green reflections in the water to his right. Grays on the other buildings except for the bridge house which is bathed in warmer neutralized colors. Also the footbridge itself is a neutralized red. So basically, this painting is comprised of red and green complements, sometimes pure, but more often, the reds and greens are neutralized by the complement to form grays away from the center of interest.
The bridge house and the clam digger are both on the thirds with warmer colors, while everything on the outer edges is a neutralized gray made from those two colors.
Complementary color schemes are only one of several subjects concerning color that I'll be teaching about at my September workshop here in Boothbay Harbor....Sept. 8th - 12th. Please consider coming to enjoy painting in this lovely area at a great time of year. Contact: caroljessen@yahoo.com
On Wednesdays, the Plein Air Painters of Maine meet in different locations around the peninsula. Yesterday we went to Hendrick's Head Light, which we've all painted a hundred times. So some of us painted the old Victorian house overlooking the beach. And a couple of us chose to paint these Adirondack chairs.
Along with many other people, I love Adirondack chairs. They're comfortable and look inviting. But yesterday it was the light falling on these two--- on the top left corner, the up-facing arm rests, and the top of the seat---that took my breath away.
Knowing what enthralls, delights and summons you to your subject will give you a sense of purpose in your painting. More and more often, for me it is the quality of the light that I seek to portray.
Stop for a moment and consider what it is you want to communicate. Color and light are good places to start.
It's been said before: horizontals are restful, verticals are formal and dignified, and obliques have energy.
Obliques, which some people refer to as diagonals, guide the viewer's eyes. Look carefully at this painting of Ocean Island, and you'll find lots of horizontals, a few verticals, and several subtle obliques. The road is, of course, the most obvious oblique, and it guides you into the painting, stopping briefly at the focal point of the stone gate before continuing on to the trees on the island. The bush on the left and the left side of the tree shape on the island also gently lead your eye back to the stone structure. The very small indication of some driftwood on the rocks is also an oblique pointer.
One word of caution: Diagonals cut things into two equal parts or shapes. That's one reason to avoid starting them in corners.
Choose your placement of obliques carefully to come in aid of the composition.
I have painted Fisherman's and Ram Island Lighthouse a hundred times and have always had the problem of the island competing with the foreground if I want to focus on the foreground . The other day when I was painting it, it occurred to me that the problem was the red roofs of the keeper's houses kept drawing my eye out to the island when I really wanted to emphasize the calm waters and reflections in the foreground water.
Red is an especially powerful attention-getter. So I just decided to eliminate the two houses out on the island. The lighthouse became the "locater", but I subordinated it by its size and neutral hues. The larger shapes and the textures in the foreground then had a chance to take the spotlight.
Don't be afraid to eliminate some elements that are in reality there for the sake of keeping the viewer's eye on the elements that you want them to look at.
This old boat is out in the bay here in Boothbay Harbor. The subject is obviously the boat, but the iconic Catholic Church locates the scene as well as providing a secondary interest point.
Size is a key factor in promoting the main subject, the boat. Intense color and value contrasts around the church play up its secondary role. As the shoreline moves away from the church, it becomes more neutral. The other buildings are less defined, even only hinted at.
For viewers who like to know where a subject was located, using a local landmark will satisfy that need.
Before you put a frame around your masterpiece, you need to think about framing your subject within the composition. In this scene, the rocks and pine trees on the right side were really much farther to the right, but I needed them as a frame for the lighthouse and island. So I moved them! That's something that your camera can't do.
The dark values in the foreground also provide a foil to the light on the island. Our eyes are drawn to the light, so overlapping that area with darker values cause the eyes to go outward to the lighthouse.
The approach, therefore, is to paint the background first, coming forward to the island and then to the darker foreground. Again, plan the values, and the colors will be able to sing.
These helpful hints and others will be explained in detail in my workshop in Boothbay Harbor, Maine the week of Sept. 8 - 12, 2014. Contact me at caroljessen@yahoo.com for more information.
Sometimes I look at paintings of street scenes and architectural subjects and wonder where all the people went. Including figures can provide scale, movement, and life to a scene.
The trick is to avoid painting figures that look stuck on. If your figures are to be an accessory to the scene, there is no need for great detail. The man in this painting came by twice. He had on a plaid shirt, and I joked with him that he would be travelling incognito in my painting, having also removed his mustache!
Whatever the speed of your brushstrokes, it should not change when it comes to including figures. The fear of painting figures comes from too much attention to details and not enough to shapes.
I love the architecture in this scene, and by placing a couple of figures in it, I provide some other spectators the opportunity to love their surroundings, too.
Directing the viewer's eye to the focal point doesn't happen by accident. Planning is crucial. You can use directional lines, values, textures and color intensity. In this painting I've used all of these. But the most important is color intensity.
The red hull of the old trawler is surrounded by neutrals. Red is a bold and attention-getting color. By surrounding it with grays, the red is highlighted and intensified. The red is also repeated in the flag. The darker values in the background come in aid of the focal point by popping the whites.
Plan, plan, plan. Consider the elements and principles before subject matter accuracy.
Remember the old saying, "You can't see the forest for the trees."? My goal is to paint the forest paying less tribute to individual trees.
In this painting of a dock scene in Boothbay Harbor, there were buildings (too many), boats, (too many), pilings, awnings, dock debris, bait barrels, lobster traps, buoys (too many!) You have to eliminate some things in order to say the most important thing. For me in this instance, it was the afternoon light and shadows.
Accuracy is not the same as art. Ed Whitney once famously said, "I don't want the truth; I want a beautiful lie." Someone else said, "It's a poem not a police report." Try to tell the story of what you saw, not the polaroid version.
I think I'm finally settled back here in Boothbay, Maine. So many set-up chores: banking, grocery staples, buying flowers and herbs and planting window boxes, and entertaining friends two days after my arrival. Now it's quieted down, and I can once again get the easel out and do some plein air painting.
This scene is at the end of my daily walk here on Hiawatha Trail. I can think of several things I'd like to do over in this piece. I felt it got a little busier than I had imagined it in my head. That is a problem with painting on location. You see so many details and textures that seem important at the moment. But I need to recognize where the big shapes are first, and worry about details and texture the last five minutes of the painting process.
At any rate, I've got the first one out of the way and am already looking forward to tomorrow!
In this painting, which I did on the side of a New Hampshire roadway, I considered what the procedure would have to be. There are only three things that can change in any one shape: value, color, and texture. Light to dark values: sky, far distant mountains overlapped by progressively darker values as I moved forward with each plane. Colors: cooler to warmer in the foreground.
Textures: Smoother shapes in the background to more rough textures and edges in the foreground.
Plan for a few minutes thinking about these three things. Then you can paint rather quickly and keep your glazes fresh and clean.
It turns out mosquitoes were good for me this morning. I was standing by Echo Lake in New Hampshire in overcast weather, and the mosquitoes were buzzing. But the good news is that it made me paint faster and more simply. Getting down the big shapes fast was a necessity. I finished this painting in an hour and twenty minutes.
Flat light was also a problem. Color was the solution.
For the workshop instructor, demos are part of the job. People like to see the process and how a painting unfolds. Last night I was invited to give a demo at the monthly meeting of the St. Louis Watercolor Society. There was a very receptive audience in attendance, and I enjoyed myself immensely. I love teaching and making people laugh! But sometimes all that talking can distract from the painting thought process. Last night I felt like the painting did not meet my expectations.
So this morning I got up and re-painted the same composition. I tried to remember to keep the shapes simple, and not get so involved with too many color changes. Also I felt that the first wash last night was a bit timid, so I was determined to make the first color and value application bolder in the re-do.
The best advice is a bit of a cliché, but it still applies: Keep It Simple, Stupid. K.I.S.S. Stay with your larger brushes longer and avoid the temptation to put in details too early.
Happy Splashing!
In this painting of Nubble Lighthouse in York, Maine, I was very conscious of the rule of thirds. The foreground rocks form the dominant third; the grassy areas and sky form the other two thirds. The light is on the vertical third. It is balanced by the small outbuilding and telephone pole.
The color scheme is primarily the complements of red and green. The textures are more notable in the foreground rocks, less noticeable in the grassy slopes and basically absent in the sky. I could have chosen to put in clouds, but that additional texture would have distracted the viewer's eye.
Can you tell I'm getting amped up for my return to Maine? Come to my September workshop in Boothbay Harbor and see more beautiful scenes like this one!
Time for The Greatest Two Minutes in Sports! Kentucky Derby 2014!
One of the things on my "Bucket List" was to attend the Kentucky Derby just once in my life. I didn't want to party in the infield with a bunch of people who wouldn't even see the race. I wanted to sit in the stands. I wanted to sip mint julips under the rim of my especially bought hat. I wanted to sing My Old Kentucky Home. I wanted to bet on a winner.
In 1999, a friend of mine, whose son was the lawyer for the National Thoroughbred Horse Racing Association, took me to the Derby. Because of her son's connections we sat high in the stands on Millionaire's Row! I stood next to the owner of the horse I bet most heavily on, "Stephen Got Even."
He told me the story of how the horse got its name. We all sang "My Old Kentucky Home, and as I do every year, I got so choked up I couldn't finish the song.
Well, Stephen didn't get even, though he led most of the race. That was the year that Charismatic, a long shot at
50 - 1, beat the field! The only person around me who bet on the winner was a woman who said she just liked the name!
Charismatic went on to win the Preakness, and at the Belmont was on the way to becoming a Triple Crown winner when he broke his leg. For almost a year they tried to save the horse, but in the end he lost that race.
So here is my tribute to Derby Week.
Generally, I don't use photographs as references. I use them as idea generators or sketch material. I will look at photo I've taken long and carefully, put it down and then sketch it from memory, changing the composition as suits the need for incorporating design principals.
Unless you are using a photo taken by a potential buyer who has specifically given you permission , it is highly unethical to use a photo taken by someone other than you, especially if you are relying on their composition. Copying photos from calendars, guide books, magazines or other copyrighted material could also land you in hot water legally if you display your work outside your home. You may use objects or people as references if you build the majority of your composition independent of the photograph.
I have juried and judged shows, and though I might not explain it to the individual, I nearly always reject paintings of lions, tigers, and other exotic animals, especially if they are placed in their native habitat because I am dubious that the artist went to Africa or India and took the shot themselves.
If an artist goes to their local zoo and photographs the animals, that would be acceptable.
That said, here's a rare choice to paint from a friend's travel photo. She's in Italy right now, and wants the painting as a reminder of her trip. It is a private transaction between two people, and other than illustrating my point, I would not have shown it in a competition or gallery.
Just be mindful when using photos that you don't borrow other people's creative work.
This post is for Dave Anderson, who told me he looks forward to getting my blog postings and was eager to see the next one. It's been a while because of illness, but I'm all better now!
J. S. Bach once committed himself to writing a prelude and a fugue in each of the 24 keys so each time he sat down to compose, he had a place to start. So it is with my goal of painting in a different color combination: analogous, complementary, split complementary, triads, etc. Here's one in just two complementary colors: red and green.
What gives the painting depth are the overlaps: distant shore, middle ground cliffs, and foreground cliff. Since each overlapping plane is progressively lighter as you approach the far shore, the values help establish receding land masses.
Overlapping is a great way to achieve the feeling of depth. It's also fairly easy to paint, too, because you start with the lightest area of the background, proceed to the next plane a little darker and with more intense color, and finally the darker foreground which sets off the middle ground by contrast.
In this painting I used a palette of violet, green and orange. The violets and greens were neutralized to give emphasis to the bright orange row of trees.
The size of the shapes are another key to this painting. The thin, long strips of bright yellow green and orange at the focal point are surrounded by larger but neutralized shapes of the mountains and the foreground trees.
I'd like to announce, too, that I will be conducting my annual weeklong workshop in Boothbay harbor, Maine September 8 - 12, 2014. This year's focus will be on all things color. Sign up soon to insure your participation! caroljessen@yahoo.com
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