Return of the Stinkhorns and Other Backyard Sightings

The stinkhorn fungi have made their reappearance in my front yard after the recent rains. There were quite a few more this time, popping up in the flower bed and lawn under the maple tree. This time I was able to photograph them immediately while they were intact, and thanks to the MushroomExpert.com site, I can now identify these definitely as Mutinus caninus. The spores from that first one must have been spread by the insects it attracts and the fungi have now colonized the area. Herb called my attention to these structures that look like a small egg partially buried in the ground. These are the first indication of the fruiting body of the fungi and form the covering for the tip.

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This morning I woke to a soft rain. I was downstairs fixing myself a cup of tea, looking out the kitchen window when I spotted a creature of reddish color under one of our cedars in the back yard. At first, without my glasses on, I took it to be our neighborhood ginger cat making his rounds, but a second glance told me it was too large for a cat. Could it be one of our resident foxes?  Herb told me he has seen one out in the open (maybe the same individual?) on a few occasions during the day; one time he was lying in the shade in our neighbor's front yard on a very hot day.

I ran upstairs to get my glasses, and sure enough, it was a fox. He started to scratch  himself furiously, turning around from time to time to bite whatever was tormenting him. After a good while of doing this, he lay down, but rest eluded him and he kept turning from side to side to scratch incessantly. I took some photos and sat down to read the morning paper.

After a while I got up to make my second cup of tea, and looked out again. A doe had come out of the woods to browse under our trees. I got the camera out again. The fox sat up to look at the deer, perhaps calculating whether he had a chance at it, and the deer looked back at the fox at the precise moment I snapped this shot.

After that glance, the deer went back to browsing unconcerned and left after a few minutes. The fox stayed under the tree for a bit longer and then he too left. Altogether he must have been in our back yard for some forty minutes or so. I don't think I've ever had a chance to observe a fox this closely for this long before.

Winnaford Farm

Winnaford Farm, oils on canvas panel, 11" x 14." Contact artist for price.

Last weekend MAPAPA members were invited to paint at historic Winnaford Farm in Baldwin, some miles north of Baltimore. We couldn't have asked for a more beautiful day: clear and sunny with moderate temperatures in the seventies. The old farmhouse was surrounded by cornfields and a yard shaded by enormous trees, with several ancient horse chestnut trees loaded with the huge green fruits (they must be a sight when in bloom!).

There were about seven or eight other painters already set up by the time I got there a bit after nine. I picked a spot under the ancient trees overlooking the cornfields and this lovely cottage with the classic white picket fence. Except for the occasional sound of a motor wafting from far away, it could have been a summer day a century ago--the pastoral scene seemed so timeless.

The time passed quickly while we painted, and most of us were finished by lunchtime. Most of the painters left at that time--no critiques were offered, though I asked a few to show me their paintings or sketches.

I had brought a sandwich so I could last through the afternoon, and our hostess, Ann Dance, supplied iced tea. A handful of us stayed on. After lunch I walked around the other outbuildings and decided to paint a patch of sunflowers taller than I am. There were chickens cooped right under the sunflowers and, as anyone who has ever been around chickens knows, their droppings stink to high heaven, but I figured out in the open the smell wouldn't be too bad.

Sunflowers, oils on canvas panel, 12" x 9."

Wrong! I was downwind, and after a couple of hours in the late afternoon sun the stench was overpowering! It was hard to stay on task and focused on painting, but I stuck it out for as long as I could. I wouldn't say this one turned out well--the light had changed too much from beginning to end of the painting and the colors lack luminosity--but under the circumstances it was the best I could do. Next time I'll know better than to get that close to a chicken coop.

Painting on Mattawoman Creek

Lotus at Mattawoman Creek, oils on canvas panel, 9" x 12." 
SOLD

My friend Linda sent word that the yellow lotus on Mattawoman Creek was blooming, so last weekend I went down for a visit. The hundred-degree days of the previous weekend had moderated somewhat--we figured it was safe to take out the kayak to paint the lotus from up close.

It was a beautiful morning, still cool, when we rigged the double kayak up on my car and drove down to Indian Head to the boat ramp at Mattingly Park. I had brought my Guerilla painter box and canvas supply bag to work on a small oil painting, and my camera. Linda took her watercolors, a sketchpad and camera. With all this gear, extra water and our lunches, it was a wee bit crowded in the kayak. We lathered on sunscreen and bug spray, and started paddling with our stuff wedged between our legs.

The tide was high and allowed us to paddle into a shallow inlet to pull up close to the flowers. Wild rice was blooming in the marsh. We tied to a clump of Pickerel weed and proceeded to set up for painting. Once again the knob of my Guerilla box had come off--it must have fallen in the trunk of my car but I hadn't noticed it until it was time to set up. It took some maneuvering to balance the paint box on my thighs and wedge the lid at the bow, thus holding it open. More maneuvers to prop the solvent jar upright by one leg and the brush holder on the other side. At one point a couple of brushes fell overboard, but the handles being wood, they floated and I was able to retrieve them. Ah, the things one endures to paint in nature!

Linda wasn't having such a difficult time: watercolors and paper are much lighter and easier to deal with in the field, though I don't find the finished product as satisfying. It took about two hours to complete my small oil, at which point we were both burnt out and stiff from our cramped quarters. My thighs were dripping with sweat and had the imprint of the rubber feet from the paint box on them. The tide was starting to turn when we pulled out onto the main channel.

It was now time to cool off with an afternoon dip and lunch--we paddled a bit farther to another channel where there is a high gravel mound and pulled the kayak up on the shore. The water felt great, even if the hydrilla growing thickly underneath tickled. There were wild hibiscus plants with white and pink flowers around the shore and a huge roost of swallows on one tree. A pair of ospreys circled overhead. It's hard to believe a pristine marsh like this can be found only thirty miles from the hustle and bustle of downtown Washington, D.C.

All too soon it was time to start back, grungy and tired. Back at the house Patrise was  cooking the baby-back ribs I'd brought for our dinner. We showered and rested a bit and then went to an evening performance of a colonial wedding enactment at National Colonial Farm. We enjoyed a delicious picnic before this fascinating look at what a wedding in the 1750's would have been like, with wonderful period costumes.

Lavender Fields Again

Lavender Fields in Provence, oils on archival linen panel, 12" x 16." Contact artist for price.
SOLD

I sold one of my remaining paintings of the lavender fields of Provence last week, and that made me wish I could go back to France right away, to paint some new ones on location. Since that was not possible--at least not this year--I went back to look at all the old photos from my two trips to the Luberon. Both of those trips (2002 and 2004) took place before I owned a digital camera, so the photos I have are limited in number, and not all are suitable for paintings.

This spot was one of the highlights of our trip, taken one afternoon when we went out painting with our artist friend from Rousillon, Francoise Valenti. The lavender in this field was not quite in full bloom yet, but a little imagination helped. I recall painting a watercolor there which sold very soon after our return.

The challenge here was to capture the spirit of plein air and apply all of the lessons about color to a work created from photos. I think my colors appear realistic, giving a good sense of depth and distance. Provence is such a lovely place... I wish I could paint there every year!

Red-Hot Bouquet

Red-Hot Bouquet, oils on canvas panel, 16" x 12."

Last weekend I went to the Olney Farmer's Market at its new location--Montgomery General Hospital's Thrift Shop--and the market was better than last year. The new location has some trees and grassy areas and there seemed to be more vendors, including a few new artist's booths. It's an improvement over the treeless parking lot of the Town Center where they used to convene.

I stocked up on farm-fresh veggies and fruits including corn. The sunflowers in particular were irresistible--splurging on these three and a stalk of peach-colored lilies, I set up this still-life in the dining room. The red background happens to be a wonderful scarf one of my nieces gave me a few years back, set against my company blue tablecloth.

The painting may be too bold a juxtaposition of colors, too fauvist (I need to start collecting cloths of interesting colors for backdrops, at the moment my stock is very limited), and I may knock back part of the background to a darker, more subdued shade later on. For now I'm enjoying experimenting with wild color, just to see what happens. Is the effect too disturbing, or just exciting enough?

Basignani's Vineyards

Basignani Vineyards, oils on canvas panel, 11" x 14." Contact artist for price.

I signed up for the Falls Road Plein Air sponsored by MAPAPA and St. Paul's Schools in suburban Baltimore. The designated painting locations lie along the Falls Road Scenic Byway, an area I am not too familiar with, so I thought to explore it this weekend. Friday was too muggy to make being outdoors bearable, but Saturday, although just as hot, seemed a little less humid--I loaded up my gear and set out in search of a good spot to paint.

There weren't many places to pull off along the road, but just as I was reaching the end of the designated limits, I saw a sign for Basignani Vineyards. I turned into the driveway and followed it up a hill where there was a house surrounded by several out-buildings. One of them was the winery and tasting room. Beyond one could see neatly laid out rows of vines rising over a hill where there were some trees for welcome shade. I walked up to check out the view and yes, it had the makings of a nice composition. There were only three other cars in the lot but no one immediately visible, so I went into the tasting room to ask permission to paint in the vineyards, which the owner granted.

I set up under the shade of a cherry tree--there was a bit of breeze but at four o'clock it was still quite hot. The sky became overcast--I thought I heard the distant rumble of thunder--would I get rained out again? I wasn't going to stop painting unless it became really threatening. After about an hour the clouds passed and the sun came out again. The effects of the light became more interesting as the shadows lengthened, and all that was necessary was to shift their lines in the composition to cover more of the foreground and the rows of vines.

The afternoon brought back pleasant memories of the vineyards on the shores of Lake Balaton in Hungary, where four years before I had spent a month as artist-in-residence. These grapevines were not as manicured as those in the vineyards of Provence, where vineyards are small family plots, but a real working vineyard in a surprising spot: Baltimore!

Blue Hydrangeas

Blue Hydrangeas: Homage to Margaret, oils on canvas panel, 12" x 9." Contact artist for price.

Last Sunday was the Fourth of July, and much too hot to be outside for any length of time. I wanted to paint a still life with a red-white-and-blue theme, but all I had on hand were the last of these blue hydrangeas from my garden: a lace-cap variety with deep blue flowers surrounding the foamy centers and an ever-blooming type with the classic light blue clusters.

Blue hydrangeas always bring to mind my mother-in-law Margaret--she used to have many bushes of this variety growing all around the shady yard of her house in DC. These hydrangea flowers vary in color from pink, deep purple to light-blue depending on the PH of the soil--the more acid the soil the bluer. Hers, growing under a blanket of leaves from the huge oak trees, were a lovely shade of sky-blue. She liked to cut the flowers to display in this graceful robin's-egg blue vase, where they made one feel cool in the wilting summer heat.

The yellow tablecloth, brought back from one of my trips in Provence, made a great backdrop for the flowers and vase--the colors just sizzle!

Summer Heat

Summer Heat, oils on canvas panel, 11" x 14." Contact artist for price.

We got a short break from the heat last week--all of a sudden the air cleared, and the temperatures and humidity dropped to more pleasant levels. On Saturday morning when I went out, the temperature was beginning to rise again. I decided on Brookside Gardens once more--there in the shady path behind the pond I could paint the same gazebo on the island from a different angle.

At this time of the year, the crape-myrtle with its rose-pink blossoms contrasts nicely with a purple beech and the vegetation in a wide range of greens. I started painting at eleven in the morning and finished around two-- you can almost feel the heat of high noon in this piece.

Fay's Bloomers

Fay's Bloomers, oils on canvas panel, 14" x 11." Contact artist for price.

MAPAPA had announced an invitation to paint during an open house at a private garden in Davidsonville. As a garden lover, this seemed like a wonderful opportunity to me, but the day promised to be another scorcher--better get an early start. There were a few people set up in the driveway when I got there and buckets of tagged plants lined up. I gathered they were volunteers to help with plant sales, and  introduced myself as a MAPAPA member coming to paint.

Fay's Bloomers is designated as a display garden for the American Hemerocallis Society. The garden covers about 1.4 acres and is beautifully landscaped with hundreds of day-lilies of every imaginable variety and color, as well as many other unusual ornamental perennials. Well-placed statues of maidens made nice focal points for the flower beds, with whimsical ornaments like elves, iridescent birdbaths, and garden balls tucked in here and there for fun.

With so much beauty all around it was hard to choose what to paint. Eventually I found a shady spot on one side of the lot where the woods behind made a good backdrop for the riot of color in the flower beds. I wanted to give a sense of the expanse of the garden, so I exaggerated the rise of the slope a bit to make it more dramatic. The painting was finished around noon; I took it back to the car and got my lunch and another bottle of water out. It must have been over a hundred degrees inside the car parked in the sun--both were very warm.

I ate my lunch under an unusual Japanese maple shading the patio--was it "Palmatum Beni Kawa"?-- I forget. Fay and two other volunteers were sitting there and we chatted in between their attentions to the customers.

The heat and humidity were increasing but I wanted to make the most of this lovely garden, so I opted to stay for a second painting in the afternoon. I wanted to focus on just a few flowers, to treat them as a still life. I walked around looking for a variety that appealed to me the most and settled on 'Tom Wise'--one of the gentlemen there told me this was a relatively old variety hybridized in the 1980's.

'Tom Wise' Close Up, oils on canvas panel, 9" x 12." Contact artist for price.

Its deep scarlet red overlaid with orange-yellow offered a wonderful opportunity to use my cadmium colors almost straight from the tube--but the plant was in a spot in the merciless sun. I worked as fast as I could, taking frequent breaks in the shade to cool off--the heat was unbearable--and managed to last long enough to come up with this. I left the garden around five, completely exhausted but happy with my day's work.

Old Crownsville Farm

Old Crownsville Farm, oils on canvas panel, 9" x 12." Contact artist for price.

For our last class of the session we met at the same farm in Crownsville as the week before. It was a gorgeous June day: not too hot nor humid. We walked around for a bit, once again discussing the finer points of site selection for composition.

Sometimes as artists we can re-arrange the landscape a bit to improve a composition, such as moving a tree from one side to another, raising or lowering the horizon line, or re-arranging the line of a road or hill. But there are views and angles, no matter how interesting, that present problems too difficult for the painter to solve. These are best left alone--the artist can only invent so much, but when we get too far away from what our eyes can verify, our inventions fail to convince.

We picked this particular view because it has all of the elements for a great composition: a nice curving road to lead the eye into the painting, old ramshackle outbuildings in the foreground for a focal point, trees in the middle ground and a bit of distance in the background. We emphasized the distance by exaggerating the color differences between the rear plane and the middle ground, pushing the colors to the violet-blue spectrum.

Fun with Cuban Zombies

Cuban Zombies (Clockwise from upper left): Zombie Raul, Zombie Che SOLD, Zombie Fidel, Zombie Dalia, Zombie Mariela. Five 3" x 2" oil paintings for sale at The Soundry, $75 each, or $250 for all five.

I signed up to create five tiny 3" x 2" oil paintings for the "Baby Canvases II" show at The Soundry because the idea seemed like a lot of fun (I'd done a similar project for Art House last year, the Canvas Project. and everyone loved my Zombie--it was selected for an exhibit at the Atlanta Airport).

That is how I came across The Soundry. It's a really cool new concept in independent artist spaces--a combination coffee shop/internet cafe/performance/artist studios/co-op gallery space that promises to start a new trend and put Vienna, VA on the DC art map.

Cuba has been in the news recently because of the death of one of the political prisoners on a hunger strike and the subsequent escalation of repression against their relatives, the Ladies in White, so it seemed timely to make a little fun of the old dictator and his entourage. If there's one thing evil can't stand it's being laughed at.

I turned each of these characters into movie-style zombies: a senile Fidel Castro maniacally poking his finger in the air--his brother Raul mimicking him; a woozy Che Guevara pointing his gun at you. The female contingent was represented by Fidel's current wife Dalia, an elderly fashion maven trying to look still beautiful, and Raul's daughter Mariela, who has been assigned the role of advocate for tolerance towards homosexuals (in a traditionally homophobic machista Revolution!) holding something that might be a bloody microphone, or is it a penis?

If you live in the DC area, go out to the Soundry, enjoy the show, and scoop these great original miniature paintings at a bargain price. The opening is next Saturday night June 26 from 7 to 10 PM. If the five little pieces don't sell there, they will auctioned off here on this blog at the end of the show in July. If they do sell but you'd like to have some Cuban zombies of your very own, I will be happy to produce a similar version of any or all of the zombies for you--just Email your request and contact information.

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.

Funky Barns

Funky Barns, oils on canvas panel, 11" x 14."

Last Friday our plein air class met at a farm belonging to one of the students. There we found these wonderful old barns with sagging roofs and tumble-down pillars, old barrels and feed carts. The complex form of this group of buildings was the perfect challenge for the class at this point. It forced us to draw accurately in perspective and think of how to articulate the forms with color.

The weather couldn't have been better--a lovely June morning, not too hot nor humid. The space for us was a bit tight as the view was contained between other out buildings, but I managed to snag a corner where I was fairly certain the shade would last until around noon. We expect to return next week for the last class of the session.

Strange Flowers and Nocturnal Sightings

Photo by Herb Borkland

Yesterday afternoon, walking back to the house from the mailbox, I happened to see this strange organism in one of my flowerbeds. What on earth? It appeared to be the fruiting body of some fungus growing on the bark mulch, so I googled "orange-red fungus" and came up with the stinkhorn family. I'd never seen nor heard of these before, but evidently they are common in many parts of the globe and they are weird-looking, some might even say disgusting.

The most likely species I would say are either Clathrus columnatus or Mutinus caninus. According to the website, the brown slime that covers the tip of the fungus (and smells like rotting meat) attracts flies and insects which eat the slime and thus spread the plant's spores. This specimen was already disintegrating, so it's hard to tell what the original configuration might have been. The pine bark mulch must have carried the spores that grew with the recent rains. I'll have to keep an eye out for more, in hopes of a positive identification.

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A few nights ago, Herb and I were outside sniffing the night air (we like to do this before retiring for the night during the warm weather) and happened to see a red fox high-tailing it up the street on the opposite side. The fox was carrying something in his mouth--a small rodent, a rat perhaps? He heard us talking softly and hesitated a bit as he was crossing under the street light. Herb remarked that the poor creature looked nearly starved, yet here he was taking his prey somewhere... I figured he was taking it back to his brood; fox kits born earlier in the spring would be weaned by now but not old enough to hunt on their own. The fox continued at a pace close to a run and disappeared up the street--our encounter lasted perhaps all of ten seconds.

The Rain Garden at Londontown

Rain Garden at Londontown, oils on canvas panel, 12" x 9." Contact artist for price.

Yesterday promised to be another scorcher, so I was happy our class met at Londontown again. The shady Rain Garden was a lovely cool spot to paint in.

This time we spent a bit more time developing our drawings, actually shading in the values in charcoal on the canvas before going on to the actual painting. This new start was immensely helpful to all of us. When we began to paint, Lee's specific hint to me was to try to use my brushwork more to describe the shapes, rather than relying on just flat strokes. He demonstrated for me, skimming the surface of the paint to suggest leaves and foliage. I like the effect this gives the painting.

I believe I managed to balance the val-hues to good effect: the patches of sunlight on the grass create a nice path to invite the eye into the distance, with a bit of mystery in the shadowy foreground.

Memorial Day Painting

Brookside Pond on Memorial Day, oils on canvas panel, 9" x 12." Contact artist for price.

I'd planned to paint at Brookside Gardens with my friend Susan on Memorial Day. The gardens were beautiful in their late spring finery: the pink roses by the gazebo, a few late azaleas including a bright orange native azalea, probably bakerii species. The gazebo up the hill from where this was painted seemed the perfect location to try the same scene as last weekend, now under very different light.

Susan wasn't there when I drove in, so I just set up my palette and gear, and dashed off a 5" x 7" black and white study, with a horizontal format this time. After about hour, I walked back to the car to get my cell phone and find out what had happened to Susan. She was on the phone the moment I picked it up, wandering about the garden but not finding me, so I directed her toward my gazebo until she spotted me.

I explained to Susan what I had been working on while helping her set up her brand-new French easel, and that I thought a similar value study would be good practice for a budding artist (it's good practice even for experienced painters). I presented her with an identical blank panel and got her started with oil paints. Then I went on to work on my full color painting, telling her about Kevin McPherson's term "val-hue" and the orderly steps one should take from a sketch to a finished painting.

It was around 12:30 by the time I had my color painting blocked in and Susan was done with her B and W study--a good time to break for lunch. We chatted away pleasantly while munching. Of course, by this time the sun was coming around to the side of the gazebo where we were, making the temperature rise dramatically--typical for summer in our area. The humidity was palpable, giving a bluish haze to the distant trees.

It became so hot standing in the sun that I had to move my easel into the gazebo so I could stay in the shade. The light had also changed just enough that I decided to modify some of my colors and shadows to reflect the afternoon light. Meanwhile, Susan opted to practice on another black and white value painting, doing a larger version of her study.

We finished our paintings as the shadows were getting longer--it was almost five--tired, but pleased to have shared a wonderful day of painting on our holiday.

In Londontowne

Londontowne Garden, oils on canvas panel, 11" x 14."

I had been wanting to return to Londontowne to paint in their fabulous gardens overlooking the South River. Today I got my wish--our painting class met there to avoid the commencement weekend traffic in Annapolis.

The day was overcast and after last night's downpour, cooler than recent days-- a welcome change. Our teacher Lee had brought a copy of Kevin MacPherson's book, "Fill Your Paintings with Light & Color" to show us MacPherson's approach to blocking in a painting, which is very similar to Lee's. BTW, I met Kevin MacPherson and his wife in Santa Fe when I was there a number of years ago (he lives near Taos) and he's not only a very nice person, but an excellent teacher and writer. I treasure two of his books--this one and "Landscape Painting Inside and Out: Capture the Vitality of Outdoor Painting in Your Studio With Oils" (both these books are available from Amazon.com).

Lee prefers to start with the lights rather than darks in his painting, to keep the colors more pure, but also recommends we work on areas that are adjacent until the white of the panel is completely covered. Today we also talked about how to select a site conducive to a good composition and what elements are desirable. We walked around the garden until we'd found a propitious site, so we got started a bit late.

While we worked, the clouds thinned out and a patch of diffuse sunlight illuminated the grassy edge of a flowerbed, providing a nice focal point for our paintings. Most of us stayed late to develop the paintings as much as possible. I'm not sure my colors are convincing or very harmonious here; I don't believe further refinement would improve this one. As it was, I didn't get home until three in the afternoon.

We'll have another chance to paint here again next week. I'll have to remember to bring my camera and a lunch so I can stay later if I want to.

Before the Rain

Before the Rain, oils on canvas panel, 12" x 9." Contact artist for price.

I felt totally drained after a rough week at work (a fifteen-and-a-half-hour day on Monday), and a bit gloomy about my art prospects. Our usual Friday class had been canceled so I'd driven up to Havre de Grace to pick up my artwork at the Riverview Gallery--it had been three years since I joined the gallery and in that time made not a single sale. It seemed as good a time as any to pull out and save myself a long drive several times a year. For lack of anything better to do, in the afternoon I applied half-heartedly to the Ellicott City Paint It juried plein air weekend in August. Why must the Howard County Arts Council schedule a plein air event during the muggiest time of the year?

On Saturday morning I puttered in the garden, setting out my summer veggies and a few marigolds. The marauding deer had eaten all the tops of the sugar snap peas, setting back my harvest to perhaps just a handful of peas this year (sigh!). The forecast called for rain in the afternoon, so I thought of Brookside Gardens, where I could paint under the shelter of one of their gazebos.

I found my favorite gazebo had been "improved" with the addition of a concrete-and-resin chess table and two seats right in the middle--leaving no room for me to set up my easel (why can't these people leave well enough alone? They've been "improving" the garden ever since they got a bad review from some snooty British gardening magazine decades ago, much to the garden's detriment).

I set up my Guerilla paint box on the low stone wall surrounding the gazebo and managed to sit stradding the wall to paint this view of another gazebo tucked on a small island in one of the ponds. The subdued light and the lush foliage offered a great opportunity for a study in greens, something I've been wanting to tackle. It began to rain just before I finished, but my spirits had risen greatly in just a few hours of artistic exercise.

Boats on Spa Creek

Boats on Spa Creek, oils on canvas panel, 11" x 14." Contact artist for price.

This Friday our class met at a different location. Lee wanted us to deal with a more complicated subject this week and boats, whose geometry is always challenging to draw, seemed the best way to kick up the difficulty one notch. He led us to Spa Creek, to an inlet where this beautifully kept-up old tug boat was moored. Of course, there were lots of other boats everywhere (we're in Annapolis after all) so judicious editing was called for.

The class spent the first hour just doing a pencil drawing and Lee corrected our drawings, explaining the subtleties of getting a realistic look to the boat's hull lying on the water. The day had started out overcast and cool, but the sun began to break through the clouds as we started to paint, and it soon got very hot and muggy. I regretted wearing a long-sleeved black T-shirt.

I kept my color key to the cloudy, overcast atmosphere, since that had already been established at the beginning. But I spent so much time on the landscape around my boats that there was not enough time left to work on the tug boat. I would have liked more time to get the color of the hull and the reflections on the water truer, as well as other details of the boat, but by that time my brain was totally fried by the heat and I was ready to call it quits--it was an hour past the end of the class. We're going back to the same spot next week, so there will be a chance to try this again.

More of College Creek

College Creek #3, oils on canvas panel, 11" x 14." Contact artist for price.

Our class was back at College Creek this week tackling the same subject again. Sometimes it's useful to go back to paint the same site over and over--Monet and other great painters did this to great effect--but it can be a bit challenging for the student.

I wanted to vary my composition as well as color from the previous week's, so this time I opened up the frame a bit to include some vegetation in the foreground and repositioned the turn in the creek more towards the center. I think I managed to get a more pleasing composition this way, and the colors are more varied than in last week's painting. I"m using more and more paint these days--I'll have to make a run to the art store soon to replenish my supplies.

The Azalea Garden at Brighton Dam

Last Saturday after getting my hair cut, I headed over to the Azalea Garden at Brighton Dam, hoping the gate would be open and it was--great luck! Last year the gardens celebrated their 50th anniversary; I tried to get in to paint on two occasions and both times the gate was closed. The azaleas, mostly Glendale varieties, were planted at this site owned by WSSC on the banks of the Tridelphia reservoir, source of our drinking water. Although they seem to have suffered some damage in the last few years what with several droughts and our recent harsh winter, they are still an impressive sight, and the water as a backdrop gives the garden more character.

The day was delightful, if a bit hot for this time of the year, and I enjoyed walking around and taking photos before deciding on this view. I attracted quite a bit of attention and many people photographed me while I painted (most were polite enough to ask permission), but only one gentleman, Bill Morris, offered and actually sent me his photo, which you see here. Thank you, Bill for your wonderful photo!

 Azalea Garden at Brighton Dam, oils on canvas panel, 12" x 16."

My painting turned out disappointing--the composition is the only thing to recommend it. I didn't hit the val-hues the way I should have, and my colors are too story-book to be believable. This was one time I should have done a small black and white preliminary study before going to color--it wasn't easy to gauge those val-hues. The white azaleas in the shade are deceptive but they should have been darker in relation to the water, and the foliage and tree trunks in the foreground should have been darker too. When you compare my painting to the photograph above, the actual values become much more obvious. Oh well, I'll have to try this one again--I am tempted to repaint the entire thing, but I don't know if I will have time to go back again this season. May is such a busy month--with nature at its loveliest, every site beckons to be painted.

College Creek Revisited

College Creek Revisited, oils on panel, 11" x 14." Contact artist for price.

The spring session of our plein air class started the last week in April, but since I was in Chestertown for the Paint the Town, I missed the first class. Last Friday our class met at College Creek in Annapolis, just like we did the year before--the weather was glorious.

There are quite a few new students, so we started with a small black and white value study and went on to work with color for the second part of the class. Lee has been urging me to get bolder with paint, to lather it on like icing on a cake. After some hesitation, I threw caution to the wind, and went ahead.

First I blocked in the three main val-hues: sky, trees and water, then I began to work the color variations in the trees, using my brushes as expressively as I could manage. It turned out to be such fun, I think it shows--the result is really exciting!

Plein Air Weekend: The New Extreme Sport?

 High Street Morning, oils on panel, 12" x 9." Contact artist for price.

 This past weekend I took part in Paint the Town in Chestertown. Chestertown is, to my mind, the prettiest of Maryland's historic towns on the eastern shore. Among its claims to fame are being the site of the only other Tea Party in colonial times, and as the location of Washington College, chartered in 1782 after the good General consented to have the college bear his name.

Paint the Town was the brainchild of Mary Pritchard, an accomplished pastel artist and teacher who lives there, supported by the Chestertown Arts League members. A group of artists would paint in plein air all around the town on Friday and Saturday, hold a wet painting sale on Saturday evening and on Sunday morning, a Quick Draw competition with cash prizes. They had arranged for us out of town artists to be housed by local hosts--my hostess for the event would be local artist Marj Morani, who was also taking part in the paint-out.

I got a late start on Friday due to a doctor's appointment so by the time I reached the Bay Bridge there was a twenty minute backup. I didn't arrive in Chestertown until noon, stopped by the Arts League to pick up my registration packet and decided to get a feel for the place by walking around for a few blocks. It had been many years since I'd been there and I didn't remember much. I saw Fountain Park and headed down High Street towards the river, admiring the charming colonial structures along the way.

On the first block I saw one artist finishing her painting and stopped to chat briefly. In the next block, I paused to take in an enormous tree and read a plaque next to it that stated it was a champion big tree, the largest basswood tree recorded in the state: a whopping sixteen feet plus in circumference and well over ninety feet high (it has since been topped by another tree in Charles County). As I was admiring it and the house next door, Mary Pritchard came out--this was her home. She told me that the house across the street had a gorgeous garden and the owners had opened the garden for the artists to paint there for just one day. It seemed too good an opportunity to waste, so I walked over to check it out.

 Painter in the Garden, oils on panel, 11" x 14." Contact artist for price.

The garden was lovely, and quite a few artists had nearly finished pieces. As I walked by a lady she called out, "Elena?" Marj, my hostess for the weekend introduced herself. What a stroke of luck! She was finishing up a pastel; we made plans to meet later so I could find her house.

I rushed back to grab my gear and drive to the garden, stopping along the way at the Imperial Hotel to pick up a sandwich (the chicken salad was delicious). The pleasant afternoon passed quickly while working on my painting. It was really hard to edit the painting as there were so many beautiful plantings to choose from.  I was drawn to the dogwood and the lilac, but the urn, which was the focal point of this section of the garden, was empty and needed a little embellishment, which I supplied. Unfortunately my shadows don't read well in certain places, and the greens are too monotonous--it lacks the punch I wanted. 

The artists had been invited to Mary's house for happy hour at 5:30, and we had fun meeting each other and seeing the glass-working studio her husband had set up in the basement.

The following morning we were up early. Marj had a meeting at the Arts League and I was left to enjoy my customary round of taiji in her wonderful back porch and garden before setting out to paint. I painted the view with the dappled light filtering through the trees looking down High Street towards the river from underneath the champion tree next to Mary's house. This one turned out the best of the three, but it has some defects.

 Mary's Wisteria, oils on panel, 12" x 9." Contact artist for price.

A quick lunch break at Play it Again Sam (owned by Mary's son-in-law) and I was back at Mary's house. I'd been wanting to paint a wisteria in bloom--the delicate lilac of the pendulous flowers is such an unusual color in nature--and here was a gorgeous old vine rambling over the back porch. I am surprised the painting turned out this well, considering it was getting cloudier and the shadows disappeared halfway into it. At least it didn't rain as had been predicted.

We were supposed to have our paintings framed and ready to hang at Emmanuel Episcopal Church's Parish Hall at 4:45 that afternoon for the reception and sale. Dutifully, we assembled at the tables set up for us for framing & labeling. I was still working on mounting my first piece when my framing gun jammed--I tried to loosen it but it was hopelessly stuck. The only way to unjam it would be taking it apart, and there was no time for that.

Fortunately, Mary had another framer's gun she made available to all. I barely got my three pieces hung as the reception was starting, feeling once again that this was like running a marathon. And Chestertown was nothing like as tight a schedule as the one for last year's Solomon's Island Paint the Town. Is it always like this, I wonder?

I was pleasantly surprised by the number of people who came to our show and bought work; the Chestertown citizens really supported the effort. After the reception, we were treated to a buffet dinner donated by the Arts League members. It was great to get to know the other artists, and I was so impressed by the enthusiasm and esprit among the Chestertown Arts League members--terrific folks!

Sunday morning dawned gray--it had been drizzling overnight, but it wasn't raining now. The Quick Draw Competition would go on rain or shine. Marj and I got ready to go to the Arts League to check in and have our panels stamped. The weather was looking very iffy, so we decided to stick close to cover. I set up on the porch of the Arts League for a view of the house next door, a decision I later regretted, as my perspective in the painting was way off.

Marj sat out by the trash bins behind the building, and managed to do the most beautiful little painting. That is the hallmark of a true artist--to create something beautiful out of something as ordinary, some would say ugly, as a trash can! Someday, I may yet learn how to do that.

The Arts League volunteers drove around town ringing a bell for the 9: 30 starting time (we were scattered all over), and again two hours later to signal that time was up. We then had to take our paintings over to Wilmer Park and set them up on our easels for the judging and perhaps more sales. The Taste of Chestertown festival was taking place at the same time, so the park was packed. I bought some tickets for the Taste of the Town so I could graze while the judging was going on. Newcastle, DE artist Dennis Young won both the First Place and People's Choice awards with a lovely pastel of Chestertown's historic ship, the Schooner Sultana. His painting was hard to resist, though a bit too sunny-looking for this day.

It started to drizzle again as I was heading out of town, back home to the western shore, totally exhausted. In all, it was an exciting weekend among genial folks. I hope this may be just the first of many annual Chestertown Paint the Town plein air festivals.

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.

Cherry Blossom Perfection

Painting the Cherry Blossoms at the Arboretum

Cherry Blossom Perfection, oils on canvas board, 11" x 14." Contact artist for price.

Yesterday I met up with Lee Boynton and three other students for a one-day workshop at the National Arboretum. We couldn't have asked for a more beautiful day: sunny and warm, with the cherry blossoms at their peak of perfection, as were the magnolias and a myriad other flowers.

In the morning we painted this fabulous old cherry tree near the visitor center. As the hours wore on, more and more visitors came until there was quite a crowd under the enormous tree. A photographer with very professional-looking gear stopped and wanted to take my picture; I consented and asked him to take another with my own camera that you see here.

For our afternoon painting, we drove over to the Asian Garden. This part of the Arboretum sits on a steep hill overlooking the Anacostia River. We ate our lunch sitting on the grass near a tree-sized Camellia covered with white flowers. After lunch we set up in what is called the Central Valley to paint. I was tempted to wander about to examine the exotic plants, among them a beautiful variety of Siberian skunk-cabbage with white flower spikes new to me, instead of painting, but being conscientious, I buckled down to dash off another painting before the end of the day.

Valley at the Asian Garden, oils on canvas, 12" x 9." Contact artist for price.

I lingered a bit later than the rest of the students to finish this and paid the price, getting caught in the worst rush hour driving I've seen in a while. It had taken me just a half and hour to drive there in the morning; at 4:00 PM it took a full hour to crawl on 295 from the New York Avenue exit up to the I-95 exit off the Beltway, and another forty minutes slogging on I-95 to get home. I frequently wish all the other cars would magically vanish so I could have the road all to myself...

Another Anniversary

Tomorrow will be exactly 49 years since my arrival from Cuba. Today being Palm Sunday made me nostalgic for our beautiful Royal Palms, so distinctive a part of the Cuban landscape. My mother wrote sonnets about them, as have many other Cuban poets over the centuries. Their straight tall trunks seem made for symbolism, and the mere sight of one, even in Hialeah, evokes our beloved island to us.

I found this photo of a hotel in Cabanas that my father, Aquiles Maza, designed and built for a transplanted Canadian in the late 1950's and selected it for today's posting because it nestles in a grove of royal palms. At the time, its architecture was considered quite innovative: the curved concrete shell roof with glass all along the perimeter, its suites of rooms arranged in small cabanas scattered along the hillside. It was part of that vibrant period of Modernist style that was the hallmark of the 1950's in Cuba, when our island was a prosperous first-world republic, an island of song.

Cabanas is the middle one of three large bays on the north coast of the western province of Pinar del Rio; the port of Mariel, famous for the massive exodus of 1980, lies to its east closest to Havana, and Bahia Honda to the west. The land drops off steeply toward the sea from a plateau and the palms grow almost right up to the water.

The bay of Cabanas has a narrow mouth but is large enough to have small cays scattered within. This was the site of what was to be our last family vacation in Cuba, and I vividly remember how exciting it was for us girls to tour the bay on a motorboat one afternoon. There were a few people living in the small cays and we were amused to see they had pigs and goats--they must have brought the animals on boats, but we wondered how on earth do you get a pig or a goat to board a boat?

My folks didn't want us to swim in the bay or water-ski, as sharks were reputed to be abundant, so we swam in the hotel's pool, sited on a wide terrace below the dining room with the big glass windows. We children spent most of our day in and around the pool, taking cover to read or sketch on the balconies during the sun-burning hours. I was already a committed artist, and remember making a number of drawings of the bay in my favorite Prismacolor pencils, one of which I'm sure my aunt Nina preserved (she sent me this postcard of the hotel on my birthday to cheer me up during my first months alone in Albuquerque in 1961). Time passed as slowly as it does on childhood vacations that end too soon...

After the hotel was "intervened" (confiscated) by the Castro government, the owners returned to Canada. I wonder what happened to it, whether it still stands and forms part of some government tourist facility or if it is now in ruins? Sometimes it's better not to know, to hold it perfectly preserved in the mind's eye.

Flowers for the Ladies in White

This week as we celebrate the return of spring in the northern hemisphere marks the seventh anniversary of Cuba's Black Spring. On March 18, 19 and 20 of 2003, seventy-five (75) Cuban dissidents, many of them journalists and human rights activists, were arrested and condemned in summary trials to serve a collective total of over 1,400 years of jail time.

Shortly after, a group of wives and female relatives of the condemned prisoners began to meet and regularly attend Sunday mass at the church of St. Rita of Cassia in Miramar (I know it well, this was our parish church when we lived there). St. Rita, like St. Jude, is known as the patron saint of impossible causes. The women dressed all in white and after mass they would walk along Quinta Avenida (5th Avenue) for some blocks carrying a flower in their hands, in silent protest for the unjust incarceration of their loved ones and a prayer for their liberation.

They have since become famous around the world as "The Ladies in White" and you couldn't find a more courageous group of women anywhere on earth. Their valiant stance earned them the European Parliament's Sakharov Human Rights Prize in 2005. For those who don't know about the panoply of methods of repression and psychological torture employed by the Castro government, these women have stood firm in the face of incredible pressure and threats, as well as actual violence perpetrated on them from time to time.

Seven years later fifty-three prisoners remain in jail in sub-human conditions; eleven have been released for health reasons on "extra-penal license" (meaning they can be returned to jail anytime the government wishes), one completed his sentence and another died shortly after his release.

This week, to commemorate the seventh anniversary of the Cuban Black Spring, the Ladies in White have been marching in the streets of central Havana after attending masses at a number of churches. Government-hired mobs of 300 to 400 persons have followed and surrounded them, heckling and shouting insults at them in an attempt to intimidate these peaceful women from carrying out their purpose.

On Wednesday their march was interrupted by the mob of government mercenaries and State Security thugs in plain clothes who forcibly dragged and boarded them into two buses the government had waiting nearby. Photographs and videos of the incident have circulated widely, and the evidence showed the Cuban government's claim that no force was employed is entirely false. The woman in the photo below applying a stranglehold on a lady in white was identified as a trained State Security agent who travels at the government's bidding.

Photos by Reuters from an article in Spain's newspaper El Pais.

Despite the fact that several of the ladies were injured in the melee (Laura Pollan, their leader, suffered a broken finger), the Ladies in White continued their planned activities on Thursday and Friday. The resulting publicity and the international community's outrage at the violence against these innocent women tempered the government's reaction in subsequent marches and these have taken place with just the usual heckling and verbal harassment. I hope eventually they will obtain the release of their loved ones.

For their courage and unwavering faith I offer The Ladies in White my admiration and solidarity, symbolized by these spring flowers--may they and the Cuban people triumph in the pursuit of Liberty.

A Host of Golden Daffodils

A Host of Golden Daffodils, oils on canvas panel, 12" x 9." Contact artist for price.

Last week for the first time it was light enough on the way home to see that the steep banks bordering lower Rock Creek Parkway were full of yellow daffodils in bloom. It brought to mind that poem by Wordsworth all of my generation read in high school, "I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud,"

(first stanza):

I wandered lonely as a cloud

That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.


--William Wordsworth, 1804

(I feel sorry for subsequent generations of students who missed learning the wonderful literary works of the English Romantic poets... so-called "Modern Education" has thus impoverished their lives.)

Today was our finest spring day to date. I remembered there is a small hillside at Brookside Gardens that has daffodils planted among birches and thought it would be delightful to paint there.

The gardens were full of young mothers with their offspring, retirees and neighbors out to enjoy the lovely afternoon. I walked around and took some photos before setting up to paint, in case there was something more appealing, but my first instinct was right, this was the prettiest sight to paint.

The scent of daffodils and the witch-hazels perfumed the warm air as I worked. It felt so good to be outside it was hard to concentrate on the basics of painting. I almost lapsed into common beginner mistakes such as starting to focus on individual flowers too early rather than laying down masses of color first. I managed to pull out of it and balance the colors before getting into the details for a nice finish just as the sun was going down behind the hill.

Primroses for Spring

Red Primrose, oils on canvas panel, 11" x 14."

It was raining this morning as I drove off to class, one of those light drizzles that heralds spring, so long awaited after such a harsh, snowy winter. This was our last class of the winter session; in fact it was a make-up for the class we missed due to the snow. What a pleasant surprise to find flowers in our still-life set-ups along with the usual props!

It was also Lee's daughter Margie's birthday, and her mother had given her a beautiful vase full of yellow daffodils as a present. The bouquet was one of our set-ups and Margie had joined our class so she could paint it. By the time I arrived, all the easels around the daffodils were taken up, so I worked with the other arrangement along with Lee and one other student.

The colors seemed impossible to harmonize--how does one deal with such shocking color juxtapositions or shades of green so close in value? It was a real challenge, and I don't feel I rose to it very successfully. I like the zing of the purple background against the red flowers, but the primrose leaves appear too artificial in color--they're almost the same shade as the ceramic bowl when they should have been closer to the color of the plastic pot. Still, I hope the painting captures a bit of the spirit of spring now happily approaching.