There are so many paths to choose, and this one never disappoints. Light after snow is amplified by the glitter of snow blown from the branches. Enjoy. Details below.
I’m pleased to announce that eight of my large pondscapes form the Inaugural Exhibit at the Brook House Exhibiting Artists Program. My emissaries of autumn look happy in their new (temporary) home!
Not in the pictures….
The mornings are so bright after a snowfall. This painting is from another of my favorite places – a walk past old fields eventually leading into the woods. Not notable in ordinary terms, but extraordinarily magical after a good storm. Enjoy.
It’s shortly after a heavy snowfall, but you can tell the strong sun is already starting to melt the snow with a sheen of meltwater on the cow pond. A slight wafting breeze is knocking snow from some branches. This is winter at its best, white AND warm enough to enjoy! Details below.
I never really know what I’ll see when I walk down to the pond, but I always know there will be something spectacular to paint. This past week, everything was glowing gold, a color that signals the end of autumn is close by. Between the trembling and falling leaves, blue sky, and a few scarlet maples hiding(?) behind the birch and willows – well – it was better than fireworks. Returning to the studio I knew I had to find a way to share the experience. Not just the facts, but the feel of all that color and the sense of being immersed in it. Autumn Afternoon at the Pond is my homage to the experience and my way of saying thank you. Details below. Enjoy.
Technical painting notes: This painting on panel is all about using primarily soft rubber rollers to apply the paint in layers, intermixing a bit of brushwork for variety. I mix a group of colors, add Winsor Newton Liquin Impasto medium to help with the rolling out and drying, then just begin rolling. The paint application is thin, so that colors can blend and show through. Over the course of a few days, the layers of transparent rolling can really start to glow. I’ve found over the years that too much careful detail can interrupt the feeling of spontaneous arrival – as if we are arriving at a place with a magnifying glass. All that matters is the telling detail – the idiosyncratic moment that captures the spirit of what’s going on, and reveals some careful looking but more joy than determination.
The fields are dormant, but under that snow there are tunnels and nests, life and hibernation. Winter wears many disguises. What can look so beautiful and nearly empty is still full of life and life’s potential. Or evidence of life’s tenacity.
Sometimes the oaks refuse to give up their leaves, as evidenced in Winter Fields #4. I think it’s because the leaves know they can’t really compete with scarlet maples, but in a world of blue and white, their bronze leaves will offer glowing color, especially in the late afternoon light. We all have our time and place. Enjoy.
I love the sparkle of winter; I love the way snow abstracts the familiar and makes it magical, and I love figuring out how to get that magic into a painting. In preparation, I’ve started some small studies based on fields I visited last winter. Here are the first three, with more to follow… Enjoy!
Technical painting notes: The paintings are on rag watercolor paper, primed with clear shellac on both sides. I used oil paint and alkyd medium, working mostly with a palette knife (and a small, flexible nylon flat for details).