Chapmans Paint Out

The Potomac from Chapman's Forest, oils on canvas panel, 11" x 14." Contact artist for price.

Last Sunday there was a MAPAPA-organized paint out at Chapman's Forest. Naturally, I wanted to be part of it, so I arranged to spend the weekend with my friend Patrise in Acokeek. I wanted to paint in Piscataway Park on Saturday afternoon, but it was so hot, I put it off until late afternoon, when the shadows started lengthening. I knew just the view I wanted: the small inlet at the mouth of the creek with a strip of trees framing the distant banks on the other side of the Potomac. The short walk to the bridge across the creek, dragging my equipment in that heat exhausted me, but the light was inspiring.

A small group of fishermen appeared up just as I was setting up. The clouds in front of me were a light peach color in the late afternoon as I was laying down the sky in my painting, while behind me, deep gray clouds were moving in. I had the hazy banks blocked in and started on the water. One fisherman leaving passed me, but the rest stayed put. I was beginning to hear the low rumble of distant thunder in the clouds... perhaps the storm would pass us by? I held off packing, but soon, the other fishermen started to pack up and I had to admit the deluge was about to overtake us. I knocked down my gear as fast as I could, barely cleaning my brushes in my rush to leave. I picked up my stuff and took off running; it started to pour as I ran down the path. The trees there are so thick they protected me from the downpour until I reached my car, where I got drenched getting my gear back in the trunk.

I changed into some dry clothes back at the house. In the evening we made a lovely dinner with some baby back ribs I'd brought; several of Patrise's neighborhood friends joined us for a potluck dinner.

Next morning we got a late start--it was already too hot for Patrise to join the paint-out (as a Michigan native she's not well-adapted to our muggy summers) so she led me there, to take her dogs for a walk. I dressed in my coolest linen & cotton painting duds, but by the time we arrived at eleven AM, the heat was already oppressive. It took me two trips to bring all my things to the house (I included a chair so I could sit comfortably while painting). There was only one logical place to set up in that heat: the back porch of Mont Aventine, where the view is fabulous.

The organizer, Barbara, and three other ladies were there. Their paintings were already quite far along, so they must have been there for a couple of hours. I started mine, trying the composition devices I'd found useful for this particular view, but had not covered all of my panel yet when Barbara asked us to break for lunch and a critique. She and the others had finished their paintings, (in fact one lady working in pastels had done two) and she and one lady left after that. I struggled with my colors all afternoon, trying to convey the atmosphere of the hazy, humid day, and chatted with some of the volunteers. I finished around four and packed up. On the second trip walking back to my car I saw my teacher, Lee Boynton, coming down the drive with his kit. He had told me he was interested in painting here, but wouldn't be able to get there until late in the day. As it was, he seemed to be arriving just in time for another afternoon downpour--the skies were darkening. He was painting furiously when I left.

On the way back to Accokeek, I drove through a bit of light rain--the tail end of a shower that seemed to be centered over Fort Washington--it cleared up quickly. I showed Patrise my day's work, packed up and said my goodbyes to start back home for our usual Sunday dinner with David. I drove home in the most beautiful light, wishing I could have stayed to paint at Chapman's until then. I can't wait for our Friday morning class to see how Lee's painting turned out.

Bluebell Time Again

Bluebells on a Hill, oils on canvas panel, 11" x 14." 

  

The Potomac from Mt. Aventine, oils on panel, 12" x 9." Contact artist for prices.

That bluebell time of the year is here again and the weather was glorious. I went down to visit my friends in Accokeek for the weekend so I could paint the bluebells at Chapman's Forest.  Patrise wasn't sure there would be many blooms--the previous weekend the flowers had seemed skimpy, so on Saturday afternoon I set out to explore.

Thanks to the recent rain, the bluebells were lush, but with so many deadfalls, some of them huge old trees, the trail was hard to follow. On the way back I somehow lost the trail, but managed to find my way to the main road. By then there was no time to go back with my painting gear. It would be dark before I was finished and I didn't relish the thought of being lost in the forest at night. Instead, I walked up to Mt. Aventine, a colonial-era mansion on the property, to paint the view from the back or the house.

When I got there, a couple was enjoying a picnic on a table by the house. I greeted them, saying I hoped I wouldn't disturb them and started to set up on the back porch of the house. I found that the bottom screw-plate of my Guerilla Paint Box had come off somewhere and I couldn't secure it to the tripod. Not dissuaded, I sat on the back steps and set the box on the floor to paint.

I've painted this spectacular view a few times before, and it's difficult to compose because the wide panorama is so symmetrical. To take the curse off, I decided to try a vertical format and focus on just one small part of the view. The colors were very hard to render: all that lovely variety of greens of the new foliage, particularly the yellow-green of the ancient oaks, against the silvery hues of the Potomac just defeat me. I know I didn't get them all here, but I think the composition works.

Back at my car I was relieved to find the screw plate to my paint box in the trunk. How could it have become loosened from just the vibrations of driving? And yet it did.

Sunday morning Linda, Patrise and their dogs joined me. The ladies suggested we cut directly through the woods to save ourselves the distance down the driveway to the trailhead. I was loaded down with painting gear, so the suggestion was welcome and we struck our way across the forest. Once at the site I set up my easel on the hill, trying to avoid stepping on the bluebells. Patrise & Linda were sitting on a log sketching a short way from me when the dogs caught some scent and went wild. I was so focused on my painting I didn't notice what they were after until Patrise asked if I'd seen the fox--I hadn't.

After about an hour my friends left with the dogs and I stayed to struggle with my painting. I was enjoying the songs of birds in the stillness when I heard something stir over by a huge fallen log (on the left). I looked up and there was a small red fox--perhaps a yearling--cautiously poking from under the trunk just a few feet away. I think he was more surprised than I--he turned around and took off the moment he saw me. I wondered if this was the poor creature the dogs had chased after... Later as I was getting ready to pack up, a herd of about 10 panicked deer came crashing through the forest at a gallop and disappeared down the gully. More dogs, presumably--deer have little fear of humans around here.

My painting of the bluebells turned out underwhelming--it doesn't quite have the right colors to give the impression of this spot on such a lovely spring day. I'll have to try it again next year. Sometimes it seems the more beautiful a place, the harder it is to paint.