Back to Newsletter Home
View Past Issues:
How To
December 2011 Mike Neilson – Bold, Sensitive and Versitile
November 2011 Demonstration: “Brass With Blue Flow”
October 2011 Drawing Inside Out
September 2011 Composing and Decomposing
July 2011 A Different Perspective - Rusty Jones
June 2011 Fundamental Lesson Pt. 2
May 2011 Fundamental Lesson Pt. 1
April 2011 Too Loose Lautrec?
March 2011 Interconectedness
February 2011 Aerial Perspective Pt. 2
January 2011 Aerial Perspective
December 2010 Beyond the Boundries
September 2010 Painting the Plan
July & August 2010
"Trees" Part One - Part Two
June 2010 "Structures in Oil"
May 2010 "Structures"
April 2010 "One of a Kind"
March 2010 "Nocturnes"
February 2010 "Let it Snow"
January 2010 Sweet Mystery: Part Two
December 2009 Sweet Mystery: Part One
November 2009 Organizing Chaos
October 2009 Saving the Best for Last
September 2009 Letting the Paint Work for You
August 2009 Watercolor: Teaching the Unteachable
June 2009 "Sketchbooks"
April 2009 "East Meets West"
Feb 2009 “Establishing a Focal Point”
Jan 2009 “Craftsmanship”
Dec 2008 “Another Approach”
Nov 2008 “The Incidence of Angle”
Oct 2008 “Back to the Basics”
Sept 2008 “As Clear as Mud”
Aug 2008 “Compartmentalizing Your Washes”
June 2008 “Lemons to Lemonade”
May 2008 “Las Flores de la Mancha”
March 2008 “Narrative Painting”
Art of the Sketchbook
June 2009 "Sketchbooks"
Musings
August 2011 Conversion of a Purist
April 2010 "One of a Kind"
April 2008 “Who’s Responsible?”
The Business of Art
November 2010 Marketing For Artists Part 2: Web Based Marketing
October 2010 Marketing For Artists Part One
Oct. & Nov 2010
Marketing for Artists
Part 1 Part 2
Art History
March 2010 "Nocturnes"
July 2008 “En Plein Air Painting – Then and Now”
Feb. 2008 “Harvey Dunn and Dean Cornwell – Some insights into their working methods”
Jan 2008 “The Golden Age of Illustration”
|
February, 2007 -- Location, Location
For the past six years, winter on the Front Range has been a mild affair. This year has proved to be the exception. Cold temperatures and a repetition of snowstorms got me thinking about a retreat to warmer climes. So I phoned my friend, Chuck Mardosz, who is an artist in Colorado Springs, and we decided that a painting trip to the Pacific Coast would be the perfect remedy for cabin fever.
We spent eight days painting in one of my favorite areas – the coastline, from Monterey to the beginning of Big Sur. There’s something almost primordial about standing on jutting rocks and painting, while the wind screams and giant combers crash around you.
We painted on-location every day, and we both managed to complete more than thirty paintings. At the conclusion of the trip, we both agreed that, besides amassing a fine collection of paintings and photographs, we had come away with a much deeper understanding of the machinations of the ocean, and California light. And that “deeper understanding” is the real souvenir that an artist brings home from any painting excursion.
I’ve been painting “on-location” for over a quarter of a century. As a young artist, I learned that, if I wanted Nature to unlock her secrets, I would have to
pursue those mysteries out in the open air. I’ve painted countless oils, pastels and watercolors out-of-doors, and I feel that those attempts have greatly contributed to my artistic growth. Nonetheless, I still consider myself basically a “studio” painter who, again and again, returns to the “Source” (Nature) for inspiration, experience and further guidance. |
 |
Some of my outdoor paintings are good and some are horrible, but each is a like a short meditation, during which I observe, absorb and experience. I have stacks of sketchbooks from all over the world, and when I pore over them I can still recall the conditions and anecdotes attached to each painting. Without those painting records, I would find the corresponding photos would fall short of being adequate reference material for my studio works.
“Outdoor” painting has now become “en plein air” painting, and what was once “a means to an end” has fashionably become an “end” in itself. Don’t forget that a painting rises and falls on its own merit, and where it’s painted is irrelevant.
Some of my outdoor paintings are good and some are horrible, but each is a like a short meditation, during which I observe, absorb and experience. I have stacks of sketchbooks from all over the world, and when I pore over them I can still recall the conditions and anecdotes attached to each painting. Without those painting records, I would find the corresponding photos would fall short of being adequate reference material for my studio works.
“Outdoor” painting has now become “en plein air” painting, and what was once “a means to an end” has fashionably become an “end” in itself. Don’t forget that a painting rises and falls on its own merit, and where it’s painted is irrelevant.
|
