Time Out of Time

Bridge Over Rock Creek, oils on canvas panel, 14" x 11." Contact artist for price.

In the city, with the temperature warmer than in suburbs, the trees usually turn later than where I live. Now that we've set our clocks back an hour, it's light enough in the early morning when I traverse Rock Creek Park on my way to work that I can see the colors of the foliage, and it seemed that last weekend would be the peak of color there.

Saturday was a rare day in a string of beautiful, sunny days we've enjoyed this fall. There was frost on the grass when I went out to get the morning paper, but it would soon be gone. I packed my gear and a sandwich, and set out late morning on my usual route to Rock Creek. On weekends and holidays, the main road through the park, Beach Drive, is closed to car traffic down to Blagden Road, about halfway downtown, so I had to take another road that parallels the creek high up on a steep hill.

A six-point stag scurried out of the way as my car started climbing up the hill. The beeches were golden and one could see bits of the creek way below peeking through the gaps in the foliage. I stopped to take photos along the way, and managed to find an empty place in the parking area across Blagden Road. The cyclists, joggers and nature-lovers were out in droves. I walked around looking for the best vantage point to paint the bridge on Beach Drive, and decided to have my lunch before starting to paint, to give the sun overhead some time to establish the direction of the afternoon shadows.

I put my easel in the middle of a thicket of vines, set back far enough from the bridge that the vines hanging from the trees framed the view nicely and painted all afternoon. Lost in my effort to get the right colors and shapes, I stopped only when the light had changed so much that the vines were now completely in shadow. I packed up my gear and walked back to my car. Surprisingly, it was only 3:30 PM--it seemed like so much more time had elapsed! How wonderful to feel for one brief afternoon as if one had stepped completely out of time. We would all be better people if once in a while we got some time out of time.

Glowing Embers

Autumn Pastoral, oils on canvas panel, 11" 14." Contact artist for price.

During the shorter days of November, an exquisite seasonal melancholy sets in that I relish. With the greens of summer gone, the orange-golds and crimson of October leaves burn to deeper shades, like glowing embers on the trees. The effect is particularly striking in the late afternoon when the sun's rays slant low, casting a reddish tint wherever the light lingers.

There is something wonderfully solemn about it, perhaps elegiac, in this light--I'm not the only artist who has felt it. I've been reading Van Gogh's letters to his brother Theo, and in a recently memorable one, he writes: "don't let me leave before there is something of the autumnal evening in it, something mysterious, something important."

I started this painting late on Friday afternoon by Clarks' farm down the road. A flock of sheep was grazing on the hills across busy Route 108 while the shadows crept along. The traffic roared past with deafening noise while I raced to get the pastoral scene down on my panel before the light completely disappeared. The sun heated the bleached grasses as sunset approached. I managed to get my last strokes in as the sun's rays were leaving the tops of the trees. Packing my gear, it was amazing to see how quickly the colors and the sky had changed while I painted.

The View From Riverhill

The View from Riverhill, oils on canvas panel, 11" x 14."

Last weekend was gorgeous--perhaps the peak of color for this fall. Friday was quite windy, but I had too many errands to run so I couldn't get out to paint. By Saturday afternoon entire stands of trees had been denuded, but there was still lots of color left. I just needed to go out and find it.

I drove out Brown's Bridge Road towards the banks of the Middle Branch of the Patuxtent River, but there was nothing much there. Going back to my neighborhood along Route 108, I drove by our local garden center, Riverhill, a favorite of mine. The seasonal arrangements at their entrance are usually eye-catching and this one of mums and bales of hay with cornstalks was no exception. I pulled into their parking lot.

Across the road, fields of green beans grew over rolling hills that sloped down to distant pastures. I've been wanting to paint this view for some time because it looks so rural one would hardly believe it's actually in the middle of Howard County's plushest suburbs, but the fact that there is no place to stand out of the way of the traffic usually discourages me--cars drive by at an alarming speed on this stretch.

I set up my easel in a safe corner of the parking lot at Riverhill and started blocking in my painting. I hadn't expected it, but I attracted a lot of attention from shoppers coming and going. Several people who were painters stopped to chat, and a couple of families with children who liked art. I think my fields may be too green for the season, but I managed to get a good sense of the shapes of the trees and the rolling terrain in the afternoon light.

Jug Bay Paint Out

Jug Bay Wetlands, oils on canvas panel, 11" x 14." Contact artist for price.

Last Saturday the weather was beautiful for the MAPAPA Paint Out Plus at Jug Bay Wetlands Sanctuary on the Patuxtent River.Thanks to MAPAPA President Gary Pendleton, our group had obtained access to River Farm, an area of the sanctuary not normally open to cars. Two master painters, Lee Boynton and Sam Robinson, would demonstrate and talk about their approach, offering helpful tips. Since I have not been in the plein air class this fall, I was really happy to have an opportunity to see Lee and some of the artists who have become my friends through his classes.

Lee Boynton's painting demo, early stage

By the time I got there Lee had started his demo and was holding forth about his favorite subjects: color and composition. He had chosen an old red barn with an inviting curve of road leading to it for his subject. His panel was almost covered with paint, but there were still some bare spots where I noticed  a deep Mars Violet tone showing. This was new for me--Lee usually recommends we start with white panels the better to judge color--so I asked him about it, and he shared that at one time he used to tone his panels, but several of his students would tone theirs in such garish colors, he decided it was better to recommend everyone start with plain white panels. Over the summer he had gone back to toning his panels and was enjoying the results. To tone or not to tone? That IS the question.

After watching Lee paint for a while, we all started our own paintings. I set up by a picnic table overlooking the river so I wouldn't have to bend down to the ground to set up my palette. I had a molar extracted two days earlier and was still hurting (my face was quite swollen); I didn't want to move around too much. A young lady I'd met at another paint out shared the table with me. Lee came around to offer advice. He asked me what the focal point of my painting was to be. Frankly, I hadn't figured it out. He suggested I try to place something where the lines of movement in the composition were leading. I decided to place a boat on the river, but I am not sure just how successful it is. I like the colors and the rest of the composition, but I think the boat may be too small for the desired effect.

While I was eating my sandwich, Sam arrived and set up his kit. I went over to watch--he was working with water media, but it was not transparent--it was gouache (I had thought he was a watercolor purist). He was working on a toned panel too--a mid-tone neutral brown--which served him well. He explained that gouache allowed him to work with a technique similar to oils, except that it dried so quickly he could build up layers of color for a loose, impressionist look. I wish I'd had the presence of mind to take photos of his work--fascinating!

Jug Bay Beach, oils on canvas panel, 9" x 12."

In the afternoon I moved down from the hill where I'd been to a small beach on the river. Here the width of the river was more apparent, and the golden reflections of the trees on the water glowed. Despite the loveliness of the afternoon, I'm afraid this painting did not turn out very exciting--I was definitely not feeling my best and the painting shows it. Still, I was glad to get the practice and spend a wonderful day outdoors in this special place. I'd like to paint here again before the season ends.

Golden October Afternoon

Golden October Afternoon, oils on canvas panel, 12" x 9." Contact artist for price.

Last Saturday was a beautiful fall day, sunny and warmer than the day before. In the morning I had to run errands, among them picking up my paintings from the Ellicott City Paint It show (none of them sold). By afternoon the wind had died down and the temperature was delightful, so I went out to paint at my current favorite spot by the Patapsco River.

It's been so warm many trees are just starting to change color; this year the leaves are not as colorful as in other years due to our summer drought. Still, I wanted to paint the fall colors and the late afternoon light had set these trees at my favorite spot a-glow. I had just about two hours to do my painting--I didn't want to get caught here after dark should the park gates be closed at night.

Sometimes pressure can be a good thing: it forces one to focus and make decisions quickly. I managed to lay in blocks of foliage in yellow-orange tones in the background with warm shadows fairly fast. I knew the light would vanish soon, weaving the golden orange glow in the water into darker shades. I kept to the warm earth tones for the shadows throughout (Mars violet is a versatile pigment), and worked the greener foliage in the foreground with the branch details and the rocks last. I am pleased and feel the painting captures the wonderful light of that afternoon.

By the time I finished and packed up my gear, the sun had gone from all but the tops of the trees, and the air was getting chilly. The day hikers and picnickers had left, and a few campers were settling in for the night.

The Cylburn Arboretum

Gazebo at Cylburn Arboretum, oils on canvas panel, 9" x 12." Contact artist for price.

On Friday, the Howard County Plein Air group met at Cylburn Arboretum in Baltimore. I'd heard about the Cylburn for a number of years, but I'd never gotten around to visiting it. I was surprised to find how close and easy to find it was. The historic Cylburn Mansion was built right after the Civil War and has an incredible luxury of architectural details and interior furnishings such as wood carvings, plasterwork, mosaics and tapestries. The property is surrounded by over 200 acres of gardens and some very unusual trees.

The Cylburn Mansion

Fascinating as the house was, it would have been a two or three session painting to do it justice. Instead, I opted for a view of a gazebo in one of the gardens that was a bit sheltered from the wind (it was a bit chilly and quite windy). The sun lit the leaves of one tree from behind, turning them to gold. The contrast with the purple-mauve flowers in front was lovely. The plant was not labeled so I have no idea what it was. I looked up in my botanical books and sites to see if I could identify it, but my search was in vain.

The Old Seneca Artisans Festival

Pumpkins at Rocklands Farm, oils on canvas panel, 11" x 14." Contact artist for price.

Last Saturday I participated in the Old Seneca Artisans Festival at Rocklands Farm in Poolesville, MD. I'd been invited by the organizers, three young college grads who work on the farm and whose brainchild was the festival. Rocklands Farm is a historic property with a unique house built around the early 1800's I'd guess, and a collection of interesting outbuildings in a beautiful setting.

 We artists had a choice of hanging space in the barn or setting up outdoors. Since I didn't want to take a chance on the weather, I paid the fee for the barn. The weather was great--very warm and sunny, so my precautions were not necessary, but the barn turned out to be a really neat space: our hosts had rigged spotlights to light the interior, but the light filtering in from the window slats was what gave it a special feel. I sold one painting and have a nibble on a couple more.

I'd brought my easel & panels to paint during the festival, but forgot to bring the bag with my brushes, solvents, etc. so I was very glad to find another artist, Evan Goldman, who had also brought his gear. Evan kindly loaned me a few brushes and let me dip into his bucket of solvent and oil medium so I could paint. We couldn't resist painting the fabulous display of colorful pumpkins on a truck right by the old silo. It was so much fun, I hope they'll do the festival again next year.

Evan Goldman painting the pumpkins.

Purple Asters

Purple Asters at Brookside, oils on canvas panel, 9" x 12." SOLD.

This past Friday the Howard County Plein Air group painted at my favorite site, Brookside Gardens. I was the first to arrive and used the time to walk around and see what was blooming. I had hoped for a spectacular display of fall mums, but those plantings were barely budding. A small army of volunteers was working on putting up lights for the Christmas display, pruning and planting spring bulbs, and repairing the handicapped ramps. It reminded me of my visit to Giverny where troops of gardeners maneuver on Mondays, the day the gardens are closed to the public.

A clump of purple asters in one of the formal gardens reminded me of my mother's garden in the fall. She loved the icy lilac-blue of these asters against the rusts and yellows of the foliage, and I share her predilection. Looking at this particular scene, the shade of the shadows on the stone paving was so close in hue to the flowers, it was remarkable. The other plantings added interesting touches of unexpected color to the scene.

I tried to keep the painting as loose as possible, and think I managed it in the background, where there is just a hint of trees and wall. Now if I could dare to stay as loose in the nearer parts of the painting, I may yet achieve what I'm after. Each attempt brings me closer.