A Little Practice

Not every painting I make is intended for a gallery wall. At times it's good to paint in ways and/or choose subjects that are out of the ordinary for me. Doing so can lead to discoveries that influence in positive ways the methods I use and things I normally paint. A week or two ago I took one of my neglected 6" x 8" pochade boxes down to the lake. Because of the way this pochade box is made, it will also hold 6" x 6" and 4" x 6" panels. The tiny 4" x 6" panel is a good quick sketch size.

Making little pochades is also a contributing factor in getting out into nature on such a pleasant day!

Happy Vernal Equinox 2018

9" x 12" Oil on Panel

And what a nice Equinox to go out and paint in! It's still kind of "stick season," that is, the time of year when there's no leaves on the trees. But trees are budding, birds are singing, and frogs are croaking in the marshes. I'd originally set out today with the idea to do a really little painting; 5" x 7" or even smaller, but when I saw this scene, I decided it deserved at least a 9" x 12" panel. That's the finished painting at the top of this post.

Here's the pochade box I painted in today. After toning the panel, the composition was mapped out. This photo shows the sky painted and the mountains blocked in. Where the tree trunks were in the initial composition was largely obliterated when the sky and mountains were painted. That's OK. They're easy enough to find again.

In this photo we see the middle ground blocked in and the tree trunks getting painted again. I didn't follow how the trees were exactly, but modified them a little to suit the painting.

This photo shows the finished painting. By this time, the light had changed and the scene no longer looked as it did when I started painting. This is the phase where I paint more from memory than direct observation, and instead of copying what's in front of me, focus on making a painting.

Painting on Decker Road

11" x 14" Oil on Panel

When I did this painting for Midway's plein air competition this year, I took some in-process photographs of it. These photos not only show some of my painting process, but also give an idea of some of the challenges of painting outdoors. You can click on any of the pictures to see a larger image.

At the Trailhead

The day of the painting, skies were partly cloudy. I parked at the gated trailhead in the Wasatch Back and proceeded to walk down the trail to a spot I knew of from previous hikes.

Headed Down the Trail

Some of the Wildflowers Along the Way

Upon arriving at the place I wanted to paint, a mile or so down the trail, I set up an easel with an 11" x 14" panel on it. That's when I discovered I had forgotten paints and brushes! There was nothing to do but march a mile back up the trail to the car and return to the easel with the previously forgotten items.

Headed Back Down the Trail

Might As Well Enjoy More of the Wildflowers

My Set Up

Finally I could get to painting! With everything needed at hand this time, I laid out the colors on my palette and mixed up the dark purple I like to use in place of black. I use a "split primary" palette, and add a cool green. You can read more about the paints and palette I use here. 

The panel is toned with a thinned film of the dark purple mix, then wiped. Before that layer can dry, the painting is sketched onto the panel with a brush, and general areas are painted in with the approximate color and value I want. The darks are placed first, then I work progressively towards the lights, generally - but not always - from front to back. Once that is done, I begin to refine the painting, working from back to front.

In the next photo, you can see that the sky and the mountains have been developed further. You can also see something else. Tiny dark specks. This was the beginning of ...

The flies and gnats were pretty bad that day. The flies were big enough that when they landed on the painting or palette, they usually stuck only momentarily before freeing themselves from the gooey colors. The gnats, however, stuck to the painting like iron filings to a magnet. I was beginning to worry I would have another experience like one I wrote about in one of my earliest blog posts. The little winged pestilences affected my painting rhythm, too. My rhythm was like: paint, paint swat swat swat, paint, paint swat swat swat, This went on for most of the painting. One big horse fly was particularly bothersome. Surprisingly, none of the flies bit me, but the gnats did. Plenty.

The next photo shows how the foliage on the trees was built up. You can also see more gnats stuck to the painting.

In the next photo, the foreground begins to be developed. I've also removed most of the gnats and repaired the damage. That was done two or three times during the course of this painting. 

At this point, the weather had gone from partly cloudy to completely overcast. That caused a shadow across the top of the painting from the easel. There was no way to avoid the shadow, so it shows up in most of the remaining photographs. Hopefully, the shadow won't hinder your ability to see the painting process.

The foreground and other areas continue to be developed, as seen in the next picture. The painting is almost finished. Also, more gnats have stuck themselves all over the painting.

The wind began to increase. I braced the easel to keep it from blowing over. The painting was finished, the final gnats removed (well, most of them), and their damage undone. The painting and equipment was packed up for the hike back. The sky grew darker and the wind increased dramatically. I was sandblasted by blowing dust as I walked back up the trail to the car, but the painting made it home safe and sound. The last photo shows the painting after it had been photographed a day or two later in good lighting, and a gnat-free environment. The painting sold that Saturday at the show.

Decker Road, 11" x 14" Oil on Panel

Pictures from Spring City 2015

9" x 12" Oil on Panel

The Spring City Plein Air competition was last week. Here are some of my pictures from that event. Shown above is the first painting I did for the show. The view is looking west toward the little town of Wales, in central Utah.

The second photo shows the painting in the pochade box, with the subject of the painting in the background. You can see how the shape of the trees was changed in the painting. I liked where the trees were, but that tree sticking up on the right wasn't going to work in this composition, so it had to go!

9" x 12" Oil on Panel

The first painting I made on the second day didn't turn out, so I scraped and wiped it and reused the panel the next day. In the mean time I was able to complete another painting on the second day. That painting is shown above.

Here's the painting still in the box. The scene is out of view to the left of the photo. The box is turned to avoid bright glare for the sake of the photo.

9" x 12" Oil on Panel

It was very windy on the third day, making plein air painting even more challenging. The panel that was wiped the day before was used for my last painting of the trip, shown above.

Part of my trip was spent camped in a pasture at 7500 feet in the San Pitch Mountains west of Sanpete Valley. The accommodations were spacious, the scenery was great, and the price was right - free! Finding a suitably level spot in the meadow that was free of cow pies took a little hunting, but it worked out fine. A good tent, two stacked self inflating air mattresses, a pillow and a wool blanket, plus a fleece sleeping bag liner, made for a comfortable night's sleep. I was awakened three or four times during the night when small groups of lowing cattle passed the camp. What cows have to moo about at four in the morning, I don't know, but moo they did.

The Spring City plein air competition might be my last one for this year, but I always look forward to more outdoor painting, whether it's with an event or out on my own!

A Couple Days in Redrock Country

9" x 12" Oil on Panel

Last weekend was another trip to Southern Utah for me. This time I went to the southwest corner of the state. I was lucky enough to find a camping spot at a state park campground, and spend a couple days hiking and painting.

9" x 12" Oil on Panel

The weather was great. Blue skies and 70° F. during the day. Lizards were out enjoying the sun, as were Gambel's quail, antelope squirrels, ravens, jays, and a red-tailed hawk. A little chilly at night, but not cold enough for a frost. I was even able to enjoy a short hike in the desert late at night under the light of a brilliant full moon. There was never any need to get the flashlight out of my pack on that hike.

9" x 12" Oil on Panel

There were three different pochade boxes, and a couple 11" x 14" panels packed in the car, but I ended up painting exclusively with a 9" x 12" pochade box. It just seemed to suit me for those two days. The paintings shown in this post were made on that trip.

My New Bag

The Old Bag

...or "What to do with an Old Bag."

This is an update of a post I did a few years ago which has been a very popular post on this blog. When I first wrote about this bag it was used to carry either a 6 x 8 or 8 x 10 pochade box into the field. Earlier this year I built a couple 9 x 12 pochade boxes. Those boxes didn't fit in the old leather bag very well, so I made a new leather bag. Here's a picture of it:

The New Bag

This bag is used to carry a 9 x 12 or 8 x 10 pochade box. A separate bag is used to carry the rest of the painting gear, as described in the older post mentioned before. A tripod to mount the box on is carried separately.

So, what to do with the old bag? As it turns out, the old leather bag is perfect for carrying not only a 5 x 7 pochade box, but also all the painting gear that goes with the little 5 x 7 pochade box. (Except the tripod, which is still carried separately.) A separate bag isn't needed.

New Use for an Old Bag

Here's what is now carried in the older bag:

1. The 5 x 7 pochade box.
2. Apron
3. Case containing other painting gear.

The little grey case was a close-out item I found in a store. It largely (no pun intended) takes the place of the separate leather bag carried with the bigger pochade boxes. Here's what the case contains:

And here is what those items are:

1. Several folded paper towels for paint clean-up.
2. Can of odorless mineral spirits.
3. Plastic bags for used paper towels. I always carry extra.
4. Small jar used as a brush washer, in a metal cup that clips onto the wooden palette.
5. Brush washing soap, if ever I need to wash brushes before arriving home.

This outfit is small, light, and so easy to carry even on long hikes in the mountains. The brush washer and soap are stored in little plastic bags to contain any leaks that might happen. Undoubtedly there will be adjustments made to this gear from time to time as needed. For instance, I no longer carry any sort of mediums when I go painting. If I need to thin paint I use odorless mineral spirits - and (except for initially toning the panel) that is rarely and only in tiny amounts.

I hope you've found this post informative, and thanks for visiting my blog!

Three Color Palette

5" x 7" Oil on Panel

It isn't shaping up to be much of a white Christmas around here, at least not here in the valley. The general appearance of the landscape is of various grays and tans. Nothing in the way of the brighter colors of summer or fall. The first image in this post is of a little painting made on a mostly sunny day in late November. It shows a little more chroma than the next image, which was painted on a very overcast day and is much more subdued.

5" x 7" Oil on Panel

For these paintings, instead of laying out the usual split primary palette, I thought I'd try a very limited palette of just three colors, plus white. Those colors were yellow, red, and blue.

The third picture shows the colors laid out on the palette board in the 5 x 7 pochade box. Although the painting shown at the top of this post was painted on a traditional white panel, the second painting was made on a dark panel.

Here's the colors used for these paintings:

1. Titanium White
2. Cadmium Yellow
3. Permanent Alizarin Crimson
4. Ultramarine Blue
5. Mix of Alizarin and Ultramarine, with a touch of yellow.

Cadmium lemon yellow would have provided cleaner, brighter mixes than cadmium yellow, but I wanted the dirtier mixing qualities of cad. yellow for more subdued colors. Perhaps earth tone paints such as yellow ocher and transparent red oxide could be used in place of more expensive cadmium and Anthraquinone (perm. alizarin crimson), but there's no room in the little paintbox for two more tubes of paint!

Here's the second painting still in the box:

As I was finishing up the painting shown directly above, someone with the COOLEST pickup drove into the parking area where I was set up. I asked him if I could photograph his truck and he happily agreed.

This restored model T pickup would be so much fun to go painting in, even if it would probably also be necessary to bring along tools and spare parts! It's almost Christmas. Maybe I could write Santa and ask for one...

Merry Christmas everyone, Model T or no.

My Palette

Probably what most people imagine a painter's palette to look like is an oval or kidney shaped thin board with a thumb hole in it. I don't have one of those. While the traditional palette might work well in a studio, that's not where I do most of my painting. I paint outdoors. Rectangular palettes are more packable and easier to transport. The palette board in my biggest paint box does have a thumb hole, but I sometimes wish it didn't. I rarely use the thumb hole, but when I do I usually end up with a painted thumb.

The color palette I use is a basic split primary. Of course it's arguable what "primary" colors are, but for all practical purposes here, I mean yellow, red and blue. By split primaries I mean a "warm" and a "cool" version of  yellow, red, and blue - with an extra color or two thrown on the palette. A generous pile of white is always a part of my color palette.

I don't think I'm too much of a stickler concerning paint brands. M Graham, Utrecht, Holbein, Gamblin, and Grumbacher are some of the brands I use, but I'm not adverse to trying other brands. Anything with good color, good strength, and lightfast works for me. I avoid "student" or "studio" grade paints, also any cheap, obscure paint brands. By the same token, exorbitantly priced paints - such as those made with exotic pigments like lapis lazuli - aren't likely to find their way into my paintbox, either. 

Below is a diagram of the colors I use for plein air painting.

1. Titanium white, made with safflower or walnut oil - not linseed oil. I like linseed oil in all colors except white because it yellows white in a relatively short time.
2. Cadmium lemon yellow. A slightly greenish yellow.
3. Cadmium yellow, cad. yellow medium, or cad. yellow deep. A more orangey yellow.
4. Cadmium red, or medium, or deep. A red on the yellowish side.
5. Permanent alizarin crimson, or quinacridone red, or another apropriate quinacridone. Dark, semi-transparent, and on the purplish side.
6. Cobalt blue. It's about as blue as paint pigments get, I think. I used to use cerulean blue, but found I can do everything with cobalt that I used to do with more expensive, but less strong cerulean. Cobalt blue is expensive enough.
7. Ultramarine blue. Dark, semi-transparent, and a touch violet.
8. Viridian green. A dark, cool green. Not a primary color, as oil paints go, but very useful.
9. Mixed dark purple. This is what I usually use for "black", or rather instead of black. It's a mix of alizarin and ultramarine, plus a touch of yellow to tone it down a little. This color can be made more blue or red as needed.

Other colors I occasionally add to the palette are:

• Ivory black. Mixed with yellow makes a wonderful earthy green like that found in high desert junipers.
• Yellow ochre. A good color for things like winter marsh grasses.

Colors I no longer allow on my palette: 

• Anything that starts with thalo. Thalo blue and thalo green are good strong colors. Overpowering, in fact. I've been unable to always control them. Thalo colors tend to take over any painting I've ever tried with them. Thalos also take over my hands, clothes, and anything I touch or walk on. The only way I've been able to control thalos is to tone them down with so much complementary color that I spend more time mixing paint than I do painting. But thalo colors are clear, strong, permanent, and inexpensive, so if you can learn how to use them successfully, more power to you!
• Any color with the term "hue" in it. Honestly, I won't rule out hues entirely, They can sometimes be convenient. But hues are just mixes. Generally, a painter should be able to easily mix whatever's needed.

.....

All this, of course, is subject to change.

Quercus Gambelii

8" x 10" Oil on Panel

Quercus gambelii, otherwise known as Gambel oak - or more simply, scrub oak - is a common shrubby tree found on mountain slopes and in canyons of the Wasatch Mountains. It typically grows in bunches and thickets which can be very difficult for a hiker to pass through. Where Gambel oak grows in small bunches or singly, it's rugged, deserty forms can be as fascinating as those of juniper or cliffrose. Pictured above is a painting I made earlier this year of a Gambel oak I came across while scrambling around on the slopes of the Wasatch Mountains not far from where I live.

This next photo shows how the painting gear had to be set up to paint that tree. I'm glad the lump of limestone was sticking up there. It provided the means of leveling the gear without being too low.

The day started out with very blue skies, but clouds moved in as the day progressed. Sometimes I'll paint the clouds in when that happens, but this time I kept the blue sky.

The last photo shows the painting still in the pochade box.

Another Biggie - and Another Cattle Drive

24" x 36" Oil on Panel

The weather's been beautiful. The colors have been beautiful. So late last week I got out and made another two foot by three foot plein air landscape painting (shown above). Once again I went to Heber Valley, one of my favorite places to paint.

Upon arriving where I wanted to paint, I saw cowboys moving cattle in a nearby field. Figuring they were going to drive the cattle, I waited to see which way they would go. The cattle moved out onto the road and headed away from me.

"Good." I thought, "They're going away this time."

I set up the easel and secured a big panel onto it. Next, opened the big paintbox, hung the brush washer from the easel, and began squeezing paint onto the palette. Then a red pickup pulled up and the rancher driving it said to me,

"There's cows coming."

Here They Come...

I looked up. The herd had reversed course and was headed my way. I considered temporarily putting everything, including myself, back into the car but there wasn't time. So I put the easel on the "downstream" side of the car and moved between the car and the fence to discourage any cows from coming that way. I wanted them all to pass to the left. It worked, and the easel remained untrampled.

...and There They Go.

I watched the cattle go, then finished setting up and painted until well after the sun had set below the Wasatch Mountain ridge line. 

Studio painters don't have to consider these kinds of things. That's too bad.