Small Studies in Pastel

Summer Storm, pastel on Wallis paper, 6 "x 9."

I love watching the sky when a storm is approaching. For some reason, this usually happens as I'm driving, and our roads present great opportunities for panoramic views. Unfortunately, I rarely have my camera with me, and perhaps that is just as well--it might be too dangerous to get distracted trying to capture the fascinating play of light and sudden changes in the weather while driving. This is where memory comes in handy--I try to memorize every striking color combination and subtle, seemingly impossible contrast, texture and shape.

One recent evening driving home on Route 108, the summer storm was particularly dramatic: sheets of rain were dropping from one side of the low-lying clouds, with very cool bluish-gray clouds against the lovely soft orange where the sun was setting. I tried to etch the colors and shapes in my mind so I could reproduce them when I got home, but I didn't get a chance to work on it until late that night, on a small scrap of Wallis paper.

Sun in Lawn, pastel on Wallis paper, 9" x 6."

Next Saturday I did a study of the early morning light filtering through the trees in my back yard. At this time of the year a long sunbeam appears across the lawn next to the cedar tree that was split two winters ago. The radiating shapes of the light seem to be charged with meaning, like the visual embodiment of a badly-needed ray of  hope.

Evening Light in the Trees, pastel on Wallis paper, 9" x 6."

This last one I dashed off looking out my studio window as the sun was setting--the shades of the leaves against the golden light beyond were so lovely and so impossible to catch! I really enjoy these small studies where I can go hog-wild with color and freedom that I would not dare elsewhere. In a larger painting there is more at stake: investment in time and materials, so one feels more constrained to think about the rules, to turn in a "good performance." Sometimes this doesn't work to our advantage.

Ellicott City Paint It 2011

Storm in Ellicott City, oils on canvas panel, 12" x 16."

The Ellicott City Paint It took place last weekend. I was one of the juried artists, and this year we were to submit two of our best pieces for the competition. The show will be on display at the Howard County Center for the Arts until August 25.

The competition was terrific--it was challenging and stimulating to compete against so many accomplished artists. After seeing all the work produced over the weekend, my impression was that the quality of the artists and work was even stronger than last year. The top prize went to a young lady from Rockville who is really hot--she also took the first place at Easels in Frederick recently--Hiu Lai Chong. I had met her last year and was impressed with her skill, but this year, watching her work on her award-winning piece was a real eye-opener!

It was great fun to run into a number of artists I'd met at other plein air events these past few years, and seeing how their work has evolved was also very inspiring. It's an honor to be among these artists.

Hi Ho Silver, oils on canvas panel, 12" x 9."

My own work was not very strong this year--I painted four pieces and these two here were the best of the bunch, but definitely lacking in the drama I had hoped to capture. They show what a long ways I have to go before I can aspire to enter the winners' circle. That's wonderful part of these events, how it makes us all strive to do better, to catch the excitement of the light, the subject, everything about painting en plein air.

A Rare Summer Day

Summer at Daniels Area, oils on canvas panel, 12" x 9."

It was one of those rare summer mornings, unusual for the DC area--cool and with the air so clear it felt more like early fall, or perhaps Canada. The Howard County Plein Air group was painting at the Daniels Area of  Patapsco Valley State Park, a favorite site of mine.

Deborah Maklowski was already set up and sketching when I arrived, and there were a bunch of young women putting out canoes on the river. A canoe transport trailer and cars took up all the room in the parking lot, so I pulled up by the side of the road to park. The girls were from Baltimore's inner city on a special job corps program, and most of them looked as if they'd never been on a canoe before. Eventually, they and their leaders launched off on their trip and things quieted down some, although people came by all morning to launch kayaks, canoes, and even one inflatable boat. It was a great day to be on the water.

I wanted to get as close to the water as possible, but it was hard to find a spot out of the traffic. I managed to set up my easel on the slope of the bank under the thick shade, adjusting the tripod for the steep slope, and sketched out my composition.

I usually start my painting with the sky to establish the light, but today I started with the tree overhanging the water, going in really dark, then painting the areas around it, adjusting the colors against it. I think the approach worked in general, but I would have liked to get better modeling of the tree itself. I should have tried for more variation between the color of branches closer to the viewer and those farther away, to give the tree a more three-dimensional effect. As I strive to do better with each painting, every time I achieve one thing I see other missed opportunities. When does one finally--if ever--manage to get it all down?

Plein Air Olney at Blueberry Gardens

Blueberry Gardens.

My painting sold to Deborah, owner of Blueberry Gardens.

Plein Air Olney staged its second paint-out yesterday at two side-by-side properties in Ashton: historic Tanglewood estate, and Blueberry Gardens. At last year's Plein Air Olney event I painted at Tanglewood, one of the designated painting locations, but I had never visited Blueberry Gardens next door, even though I had driven past many times wishing I had time to stop to pick their organic-grown blueberries. Herb actually stopped by there last year for the first time and picked some blueberries which were delicious.

It was cloudy when I arrived at Tanglewood for the artist check-in--it had rained earlier and I was afraid there might be more rain, but fortunately, it cleared up as the day went on. I walked around Tanglewood and then up the road to Blueberry Gardens to look for places to set up. I settled on some of the picturesque out-buildings at Tanglewood for my morning painting, and walked back with my gear. Two other ladies were already there, and I accommodated myself between them trying to not get in their line of sight.

After a while another three artists set up close by, and as the morning progressed the sun gradually came out. At mid-morning the owner, Michelle, let her chickens out of the coop. We enjoyed seeing her Rhode Island reds and guinea fowl pecking around. I managed to quickly put in a few chickens in my painting. By the time the painting was finished, I was standing in full sun and it was getting hotter by the minute.



Farm Buildings at Tanglewood, oils on canvas panel, 11" x 14."


I packed up and took the painting back to my car, deciding to skip lunch--I hadn't thought to bring a sandwich and there was not enough time to complete a second painting by three o'clock if I went out to get a bite. It was too hot to stand in the sun to paint. The owners of Blueberry Gardens had set up a tent at the end of their drive for their business. They were having open house today as part of the day's events, with free demos of the offerings at their Octagon Studio: Yoga, Reiki, Acupuncture and massage.

I asked the owners, Robert and Deborah Boggs, if I might sit on one of the chairs to paint in the shade of their stand, and they most kindly welcomed me. From there I had a wide view of the neatly laid-out rows of blueberries and the pickers, with a plastic frame greenhouse and trees as a background. I had to make this painting much looser than the morning's if I wanted to finish it in time, so I attacked my smaller panel ruthlessly, blocking in the rows and grass paths between them with broad, sloppy strokes. I tried not to worry about the mess and just concentrate on covering the entire canvas with color quickly, sticking to the big shapes, then adjusting the colors, Only when it was pretty far along did I start to bring out some details in the rows of plants and trees beyond, and add a dash of color here and there to suggest a few people picking berries. Deborah watched these steps with curiosity, especially the last ones, seeing objects emerge from this apparent confusion. I must say it surprised me too, and I liked the effect. This was closer to what I wanted than the more structured morning painting.

The time for the reception and wet-painting sale came much too soon. I carried up my painting on the easel into the Octagon studio and left it there. I had to walk back to my car parked at Tanglewood and drive around to the Blueberry Gardens to bring the other painting and the frames for the show. I slipped the Tanglewood painting into a frame working in the trunk of my car, took that one into the studio and brought back the Blueberry Garden painting to frame outside, again in the trunk, then took it in to set back on my Guerilla Painter easel.

There were lots of folks at the reception, and some delicious home-baked goodies: a blueberry buckle, blueberry mini-tarts, blueberry muffins, a shortbread with Mascarpone made by Tara, and fresh blueberries, of course! I was so starved, I scarfed these up gratefully with a glass of wine. I was so pleased that Deborah bought my painting as well as a lovely pastel by another artist. Michelle bought Tara's painting of  the fields at Tanglewood.

Herb came to the reception and managed to get a taste of the last of the blueberry goodies. After the reception ended and we had packed up all my art gear, we went out to the garden and picked a pint of blueberries to take home. I will be stopping by to pick more berries this summer, now that I know the blueberry season is longer than I thought--to the end of August.

You can see more photos of the Blueberry Gardens reception in my album here at Flickr.

The View from Clark's Farm

The View from Clark's Farm, oils on canvas panel, 9" 12."

Last Friday the Howard County Plein Air group was invited to paint at Clark's Ellioak Farm. The day was overcast with the possibility of rain, but a few of us took a chance and showed up-luckily, the rain held off.

We were invited to come right up to one of the farmhouses; there were wonderful 360 degree views from this spot. I chose this one of the rolling hills with ricks of newly harvested hay scattered over the hills. The hills fall away towards a small pond and the trees in the distance made the humid atmosphere more palpable.

I stood in the yard very close to a double gravestone whose inscription had the names of the Clark couple who had owned the farm until the year 2000. Below their names was a motto which I found very moving, "Never sell the land." It must have been their favorite saying to their children. Their progeny have obviously taken the advice to heart: this choice piece of farmland is one of the most beautiful in our area, and one I enjoy painting frequently.

My Solo Fern Walk

The Switchback Trail on the North Branch of the Patapsco River.

The weather was glorious this past Friday--cool and breezy--a perfect day for a hike at the McKeldin Area of Pataspco Valley State Park. I wanted to explore a trail new to me, so I parked at the northern end of the park, the opposite side from the Rapids Trail where I usually paint. I had a small watercolor kit in my backpack and the presence of mind to bring along the fern identification book my son David recently gave me. 

What a stroke of luck! The Switchback Trail was lush with ferns--at least six or seven different varieties that I could distinguish, if not identify positively. About a month ago, before I went on a fern walk at Snyder's Landing near Sharpsburg with a group from the Maryland Native Plant Society, I wouldn't have known what to look for (the MNPS has designated 2011 as the "Year of the Fern"). I learned a great deal about ferns and other plants from several expert botanists on that walk, and saw a number of species that are unusual in Maryland.

Maidenhair and other ferns.

 Ferns grow profusely all along this stretch of the Switchback Trail. The common Christmas Fern (Polystichum acrostichoides) was everywhere, Maidenhair Fern (Adiantum pedatum) scattered here and there on the upper slopes grew in huge, thick stands as the hillsides dipped down towards the North Branch of the Patapsco. Another small fern with yellow-green fronds grew in large stands along the path--I brought out my book to identify it, but couldn't be sure. It had a pleasant, if indescribable scent when crushed--could it be the Hay-scented fern (Dennstaedtia punctiloba)? There weren't any spores visible on the back of the fronds, but the vein pattern didn't seem to match the drawing in the book and the fronds seemed too small. The shape of the fronds seemed closer to the New York Fern (Thelypteris noveboracencis), with the pinnae tapering towards both ends, or perhaps the Marsh Fern (Thelypteris palustris).

Looking down carefully for more clues as to the yellow-green fern's identity I spotted some fronds of a different shape--these were more triangular and the lower set of pinnae broadened and pointed downward. Definitely a different species here--this must be the Broad Beech Fern (Phegopteris hexagonoptera).

Broad Beech Fern (Phegopteris hexagonoptera).

Farther down the path I saw another much larger fern growing from a central crown. The arching fronds were about three feet long, but  there were no spores to help identify it. I continued down the trail until I saw more of this same kind of fern. Among these were some with a few fronds that seemed to have the pinnae torn from the middle, with small brown withered leaves hanging down. The interruptions were only on certain fronds, and yet so consistent I felt this must be a clue to the fern's identity.

Interrupted fern (Osmunda claytoniana).

Flipping through the book I came across it--the aptly-named Interrupted Fern (Osmunda claytoniana). The fertile fronds of this variety have the spore-bearing pinnae in several sets along the middle of the frond. These ripen and wither quickly, leaving spaces in the middle of the frond.

Rock with many ferns.

I came across this lovely rock covered and surrounded by ferns--a stand of New York Fern below, Maidenhair ferns and small Polypody ferns (Polypodium virginianum) growing on it. Christmas Ferns were all around, and perhaps some other ferns I don't know about. I should get some botanists to come on a walk here--I bet they'd have a field day!

Polypody Fern (Polypodium virginianum)

Unidentified fern, maybe Spinulose Wood Fern (Dryopteris spinulosa)?

During most of my hike the peaceful sounds of birdsong and breeze were punctuated by rhythmic noise from the gun club's firing range on the other side of the ridge. The ferns began to thin out as the trail started to turn westward; the stream became shallower and the banks pebbly. The spot seemed just right for a sketch, so I  set up my camping stool and got out my watercolors. The light and reflections on the water were wonderful, and I became absorbed in the task of trying to capture the beauty around me.

North Branch Reflections, watercolor, 5" x 10."

 Sometime later I noticed the sun had gone from the stream--a signal it was time to start hiking back. I retraced my steps, taking more photos along the way and prepared for the steep climb back up to my car. What a wonderful, fruitful afternoon!

North Branch Reflections II, watercolor, 10" x 14."

The next day at home I looked at my sketch and photos and decided the val-hues in the sketch weren't quite right--I'd made the sunlight too orangey, and the pebbled shore was too dark a Payne's gray. In my photo the rocks were lighter and almost lavender. I lifted some of the color from the pebbles and background trying to correct it. Still unsatisfied, I started over with a larger watercolor. I used two very different palettes for each, and may go back to try an oil at this same spot. That's going to be quite a long haul with my oil-painting gear, but the location is definitely worth the effort.

You can see all my photos of the area in my Flickr album here.

June Roses

Red Roses and Robin's Egg Blue, oils on canvas panel, 10" x 8."

The ever-bearing rose bush my sister Silvia gave me a few years back has grown into a glorious sight. The color of its deep red flowers defies my artistic abilities--somewhere between cerise and magenta-cherry--and they bloom in such profusion I've been cutting masses of them for my flower vases, to keep them from being devoured by the roaming deer who particularly savor the buds.

My favorite vase to display them is this glazed robin's egg blue vase I inherited from Mum. My mother-in-law used to love this vase filled with the sky-blue hydrangeas that grew all around her house in DC. I find the contrast with these red roses wonderful. Two or three branches of this floribunda variety are enough to fill the vase.

A couple of days after doing the small painting above I decided to try a quick sketch in pastel--I rarely get to use these brilliant Sennelier pigments in my plein air pastels except in small touches here and there. Wow!

Red Rose Study, pastel on Wallis paper, 6" x 9."
SOLD

The View from Eagle Cove

The View from Eagle Cove, pastel, 9" x 12."

The Howard County Plein Air Group painted yesterday at another location entirely new to me: the Eagle Cove School in Pasadena. The school is just before the causeway leading to Gibson Island, an exclusive gated community on the Chesapeake Bay. I've heard of Gibson Island many times, but have never actually been there, nor this particular neighborhood across the channel. The leader of our group, Deborah Maklowski, happened to know Mary Ellen Geissenhainer, the art teacher at this small private school formerly known as the Gibson Island Country School, and our group was invited to paint on the school grounds.

The yard at Eagle Cove School.

I arrived a little before 9:30 AM and found Deborah and one other artist already there, walking around looking for a place to set up. The day was hazy and promised to be a scorcher, but the best view to my mind, was by the school yard fence overlooking the cove, where there was no shade. The others chose to set up under the shade by the driveway, but I decided to go with my first instinct and set up by the fence.

I rarely paint with pastels en plein air, mostly because I have yet to assemble a professional traveling kit for them, but this time I brought my set of Sennelier half-sticks and the old Grumbacher set of pastels I inherited from Mum (my mother-in-law Margaret). I set up my Guerilla Painter box & tripod and laid the Sennelier box across the palette, leaving the Grumbacher box on the ground. I had to bend down periodically to select the Grumbacher sticks I wanted to work with, laying them on the palette. A sheet of Wallis paper mounted with adhesive onto a piece of archival matboard was my surface.

I wasn't sure just how to tackle the painting--I haven't had as much experience with pastels as with oils or watercolor, so I have not developed any specific method of working. I constructed the main features: the lines of the trees on the right, the water and  horizon, the two boats as the focal point, the near shoreline. From there on I was all over the place, filling in the lights on the tree trunk and drooping branches, then a bit of the darks, a peach wash over the sky overlaid with light blue, coloring the far shore, a lilac wash over the water. It didn't look like much at first, but gradually the painting began to emerge.

I'm so used to mixing my colors in oils that trying to select just the right val-hues in colored chalk seemed impossible--the water was too purple, and needed to be toned down with gray-greens and blues. The touch of blue-green in the bushes in the foreground appeared garish at first, but after consideration, it's a gorgeous color and it works, so I added some touches of the same color to the tree foliage. Voila! It was so much fun, I must try it again real soon.

Looking at Gibson Island across the water, we artists wished one of us knew someone who lived there who would invite us over to paint, so we could cross the causeway to explore this intriguing place. How about it folks--any one reading this who lives on Gibson Island? Would you please invite a group of plein air artists to paint on your island? We'd love it!