At the beginning of last summer, I decided that I would do some plein aire painting! I usually work in the studio (all the old masters had really), but I sketch and take many, many photographs of scenes and locales that interest me. Past attempts to work outside have pretty much resulted in a shameful stash of really frugly paintings. Not the brilliant oeuvres that other artists seem to produce. There are many plein aire painters who create absolutely brilliant works on location! How, I pondered? Still others do value and color sketches which they either finish in the studio or use as a form of note-taking for much larger paintings that they do later. Frankly, if any of my outside paintings rose to that level I would be delighted.
Being something of an analytical
thinker (that other side of my brain), I decided to figure out what
the heck the problem was. First off was my suspicion that I must be
one “those” painters. You know the ones. The ones who don't like
it too hot, too cold, too buggy, too windy, too much sun, not enough
sun, etc. and have gear problems, to boot. And we get sneered at by
the die hard outdoorsy folks who stand in 36” of snow, or up to
their waist in surf, or on the edge of a cliff, or in a canoe. I love
those extreme location shots. They are inspirational. But I still
must suck it up and deal with the elements and the gear. I will
address the gear only tangentially here, but it really has enough
items in it that it will be a whole n'other post. So, yes, it was too
hot, too cold, too windy, wrong gear, wrong sun and then, on top of that, I
was busy with other projects, like an upcoming open studio event. Justifiable! So, like many, I have reasons, also known as "excuses", but I have been working them through and coming up with some
viable solutions.
Technique #1
Schedule time to paint and work around
it, or just prioritize it. No excuses. You can do the ubiquitous
paper work anytime (I deflate badly after 3:00/4:00 so that's when I
clean up and hit the computer. . . theoretically). I can work at
cooler times of day, in the shade, and in a sheltered locations
(wind/sun elements), etc. I got this. And I did get out regularly last fall and produced pictures that, if not good enough to exhibit,
are at least better than previous pictures. Working outside in January is a whole 'nother unique subject! Maybe dealing with the cold will be a separate post.
Techniques #2
Work in your own front yard first. Or
back yard. Or side yard. Or other side yard. Or front step even.
Really. It is surprising what can be left behind accidentally. In my
case it was paper towels (really?), thinner, and the “right paint”
brush. I found it very convenient to run into the house and get
things, even my favorite painting stool! I have not yet figured out
how to take that one with me on location, as I do get tired standing for long
hours. (A shooting stick is going on the Xmas list.) Painting from the home front allows you the opportunity
to tweak your gear and decide which stuff and how much stuff to take
with you. I'm talking about the bulk of the stuff, the sheer volume, how many arms you have and then there's the weight
of the stuff and whether you need several Sherpas to transport it all or just hire servants like
Monet did.
Techniques # 3
Travel light. This is really a gear
topic, but it does impact on the ease and frequency of visits to the
great out-of-doors. The traditional French easel has been supplanted
in recent years by a range of lighter versions, one of which I did
buy (more in my gear-head posts), along with a new tripod that
collapses to practically nothing. I pruned my selection of oil paint.
This was hard and sad. But, you really don't need raw sienna if you
have yellow ochre and my favorite shade of mauve can rest easy at
home. You have more leeway if you are working within 20 feet of
your car (you could cheat and take a box of your contraband colors
that you leave in the car), but if you are planning on doing a trail,
ax as much as you can. It's a good time to try out some of those
famous limited palettes: an outdoor version of the Zorn palette, or
take just one warm and one cool of each of the major hues. They all
take some getting used to. Again, try it in your back yard first. My
new pochade box has a much smaller palette than I am used to, so I
really have no choice. My goal when selecting gear was that it all
had to fit into a single backpack, which I have amended to one with
additional wheels as I still do not have the weight down quite as much as
I would like (its a process). The locales I have been looking
into all have pretty wide pathways so I think I'm good and this
backpack also has shoulder straps for more rugged terrain.
Technique #4
Check out the location first before you take a
lot of gear with you. Know what local trails, conservation areas and
scenic vistas are nearby. I am particularly interested in sites that
have parking! Don't need a neighbor calling in to the cops about a
“suspicious vehicle” parked by the road. There is one
conservation area in my town that even has a port-a-potty! Yeah! I
did a first round in my car only, looked up the locales and checked
out the parking and how wide the trails looked. Some conservation
areas now have trail maps posted online that you can download to your
phone. Next step is taking a light backpack with just paper, pencils and a
camera. Walk the trails. It's good exercise. Make note of the sun and the time of day. I am partial to water,
so ones with ponds or streams get priority. Think about how you feel
about passers by. They always want to talk to you. They sometimes
have dogs. Though it does break my concentration, I try to view it as
a marketing opportunity. Besides, the minute you turn on that “sales”
charm, they will flee like a hornet in the rear view mirror.
Techniques #5
Work small. The materials are lighter
and easier to transport. There is less of an emotional investment in
the outcome. They work up faster and can be completed (sort of) in a
single session. There is also a relationship between the size of a
brush stroke and the size of the painting. Explore that. Small works
have an intimacy to them. You can hold them in your hands and develop
a certain relationship with the content. When you have more
experience under your belt and a favorite spot established you can
take a larger canvas with you. I use either Masonite, which is heavier, or canvas taped to foam core. I have a canvas carrier for my wet paintings that fits in my backpack next to my pochade box.
Techniques #6
Think about safety. Fellow walkers on a
trail, especially if they have dogs, make me feel safer, but you
gotta be aware of the vibe they give off and how isolated the area
you are working in is. Always take a pocket knife, pepper spray, your
cell phone (within range?), etc. with you. If you speak with other
people reference another companion who is “meeting you there”,
even if that's not quite true. Or take a companion along. Always take rain
gear and a sweater, plus drinking water. The rules are pretty much
the same as for any type of hiking, which should also include a note
or text to your family or significant other letting them know where
you have gone. A map on paper is nice as cell phone batteries can
give out. And if you run into a bear in the Northeast, they are black
bears and I have been told that they are easily scared off by
shouting at them. I have not tested this out. . . And don't think I
want to.
Happy painting!
-Vicky
