A Changing Light on the Landscape

Working on some new approaches to landscape painting, trying to avoid that "pat" formulaic technique -- tree here, water there, etc...  Looking for the light, too. Not necessarily the beautiful light of a summer's day but rather the tempestuous light of a passing storm . . . scudding clouds roiling over a stretch of marshland in the early evening hours when shadows begin to creep across the land.

Passing Storms

oil on canvas

12 x 16

The other kind of light, which is much more difficult to capture, is the night. This painting, working from some photos I had taken at the Cape, was an attempt to evoke the light of a large, luminous moon. You know the type -- the one that looms up over the horizon while you're driving and you just about slam on the brakes because it is so awesomely beautiful it takes your breath away . . .

Harvest Moon

oil on canvas

9 x 12

Both are quite different in my approach as I truly beat these canvases to death, poor things, trying for that impressionistic, lost edge look. I painted, scraped back, etched with tip of the brush, smudged with fingers. You name, I think I did it. The camera shots are not good; I took them rather quickly as I brought down the show at Aetna, so my apologies. But with winter upon us I didn't think I'd have much opportunity to do a shoot outdoors, which is usually what I do to avoid costly professional photographer fees.  It's also another reason why I usually paint on a smaller scale so I can scan the painting and then upload, print, etc.

Here are a few works that I've admired for years from the American Tonalist school of artists that painted in the late 19th century and early 20th century.  Their works celebrated the natural landscape, especially in light of the encroaching industrialism in the East.  Henry James wrote that their shared vision was one of experiencing the natural landscape as a "personal epiphany" -- ah, yes!

George Inness' Early Autumn, Montclair

James Whistler's Nocturne in Black and Gold

Charles Warren Eaton's Sunset Glow

Painting is by nature
a luminous language. 

Robert Delaunay

Autumn Studies

Dusk Descends on Fallow Field
(gouache & pastel on paper; 10"x8")

Autumn Marshes
(acrylic & pastel on
Wallis sanded paper; 6"x8")

Two quick works, different mediums and surfaces, both trying to capture those illusive autumn moments when color and light seem to become one. When one works small, the work can be quick and decisive, allowing the colors and the medium to proceed without too much interference from the artist! Sometimes I can't seem to get out of my own way. But these were so fast and brief that there was no time to meddle; otherwise, the light would have been lost. And one more -- a small oil sketch on panel:

Wetlands at Sunset
(oil on panel; 5"x7")

I seem to have a penchant for marshes and wetlands. Between the coastlines and river wetlands in this area, who could not? I hope to get out more later this month, at least before the real cold settles in. I especially like the time after Halloween -- early November, after the leaves fall and one can see the skeletal shapes of the trees against the sky, when the light has pearled over into that dove gray and blended seamlessly with the reflective surface of the water. Ahhh.....! Those are the quiet landscapes that breathe solace and peace.

I have always been especially fond of Corot's use of gray; also, certain Whistler nocturnes and Turners convey those nuances of gray. Last year I was lucky enough to catch the art exhibit, Like Breath on Glass at the Clark Institute in Williamstown, MA. Another favorite, George Inness, was in that exhibit. I stood in front of his Home of the Heron several times that afternoon; one could sense the air going still as if in a chapel. If you ever have the chance to read James Elkins' Pictures & Tears, you'll see what I mean. Elkins' writes about the inexplicable reaction people have to particular works of art, such as Rothko's works in a chapel in Houston.

Well, the work week is wrapping up, and I have many plans for the weekend. I hope to be back next week. I think that's how my new "pace" is working out for now. Happy weekend -- :~)