Progress Photos

First idea: "Belvedere", (c) Lesley Powell 2015

Faithful readers may recall an earlier post about using a camera to preserve the early stages of my favorite paintings. Sometimes I sense that I am onto something good, right from the start--and in that case I often snap a few shots of the work in progress. The idea is to keep a record of what I found exciting and interesting. Later, if I start to over-think and over-work the painting (always a danger!), I refer back to the earlier photo. It helps me recapture the thrill of discovery, and it refreshes my memory about what I loved.

First idea: "Cobbled Together", (c) Lesley Powell 2015

I thought it would be interesting to show a few of these "eureka" photos. The top image is the first touch of ink to canvas for my painting "Belvedere". I was immediately pleased with the pattern of the fields and the sense of the curvature of the earth. Somewhere along the line

What's on my Easel?

"Radish Trio"
Oil on Linen, 6 x 8
(c) Lesley Powell 2015

It has been quite a while since I wrote about what I am painting in my studio. Lately I have been moving back and forth between two extremes--small scale still lifes and sweeping landscape vistas. I have wondered whether I am just indecisive, or perhaps have a split personality! Upon reflection, I think I know the answer:

Simple Isn't Easy

(c) Maggie Siner, 2015

One of the biggest messages from the recent workshop with Maggie Siner is the importance of simplification, and the power of simple shapes. Simple (but beautiful!) shapes make for  strong paintings. Our very first day, we were challenged to depict the landscape and all of its glorious, expansive space by using just three or four shapes. Yikes!

The proof is in the pudding: if the color relationships are correctly "tuned" among the shapes, that is all you need to make a complete painting. I submit as Exhibit A the top painting, which is from Maggie's own brush. There is no "detail" description, but you know that you are in a wheatfield in the Luberon. No question. Simple and beautiful. Not easy to do.

"La Route d'Uzes"
Nicholas de Stael, 1954

Thinking about this exercise brought to mind my favorite paintings by Nicolas de Stael (1914-1955). De Stael was a Russian immigrant who settled in France. He is known as an abstract painter, but

The Dow

Print by Arthur Wesley Dow

I have been reading an old-time classic, Arthur Wesley Dow's book entitled Composition: Understanding Line, Notan and Color. The book was first published in 1899, and is still in print. That alone tells us something about its value. Dow's book looks at many different art forms, including architecture, sculpture, painting, drawing, design, and the crafts. Dow calls composition "the putting together of lines, masses and colors to make a harmony." Composition is the way we make beauty, and thus it is art itself. 

"The Moon over the Hill"
Arthus Wesley Dow

Dow thinks that all people have artistic ability, but the ability is often dormant, and must be cultivated. Or, as Dow puts it more eloquently,

Villages in the Vaucluse

(c) John Graham, 2015

Painting architecture can be quite difficult. So many perspective lines, so many opportunities to go wrong! Conventional wisdom tells us that if an architectural element is wrong, the viewer feels immediately off balance and knows something is amiss. Nonetheless, the villages of Provence turned out to be favorite motifs for the painters in our recent workshop group. (True confession:

Stalking Our Quarry

Photo (c) Lesley Powell 2014

The area near Roussillon, France, has long been noted for its amazing red, yellow, and orange earth. In fact, mining and exporting ochre pigments was an important industry in Roussillon until the early 20th century. Nowadays the mines are closed, and the sites of the former excavations have left huge, colorful gashes in the hillsides. Our workshop group went to one abandoned quarry to paint. What a sight!

Workshop group in the quarry (c) Lesley Powell 2015

The terrain looks quite extra-terrestrial. The first time I painted there, I was not keen on the motif. I figured that no matter how good my painting, nobody would ever know what it was. The next time I painted there, I was thankful that it was an un-knowable scene: its very strangeness freed me up to focus on SHAPES and COLORS, and not to approach the painting in terms of rendering a subject. This year, some of my favorite paintings from the group came from the ochre quarry. 

Bob Dodson, (c) 2015

It's not easy to find your footing in the quarry, or to locate a flat spot to set up an easel. The intrepid Bob Dodson and Richie Carter both hiked quite a distance to find their spots. And both of them painted wonderful paintings. Bob's painting is above. I wish you could see it in person--the colors and textures of the foliage make a gorgeous pattern, and the jump in space from the foreground to the distance is breathtaking.

Richie Carter, (c) 2015

Richie's painting (above) is another knockout. His colors for the rocky soils are spot on. And I love the juxtaposition of the hard rocks and the soft trees. Another favorite came from the easel of Susan Guthrie (below). Susan told me that she was concentrating on volume, and boy did she succeed in showing the 3D nature of the rocks. I love the way her painting focused on just the rocks. Such an original take!

Susan Guthrie, (c) 2015

My painting is below. I was pleased with the ochre cliffs, but the trees were a real struggle for me. I need to take heed of the beautiful approach to the foliage in Bob's and Richie's paintings! 

"Ochre Cliffs"
Oil on Canvas, 13 x 6
(c) Lesley Powell 2015

While looking at our paintings, I could not help but recall some wonderful precedents from the great masters. One of the precursors of Impressionism was Jean-Baptiste Camille Corot. Corot was one of the first painters to work outside on location. Though he was a Frenchman, much of his painting career was spent in Italy. His early works are especially appealing to me. Here are a couple of his paintings from the 1820's, featuring rocks and trees very similar to those we saw in Provence:

"Rocks at Civita Castellana I
Camille Corot, 1827/27

"Trees and Rocks at La Serpentara"
Camille Corot, 1827

Finally, I would be remiss to write about the ochre quarries of Provence without mentioning the great master, in whose steps we all follow: Cezanne. These quarries were one of his  favorite motifs. I close with one of his paintings. The planes of the earth are so convincing you can practically feel yourself slipping and sliding on them. Enjoy!

"Bibemus Quarry"
Paul Cezanne, c. 1895

Wait Until Dark

(c) Maggie Siner, 2015

During the recent workshop in France, our fearless leader, Maggie Siner, urged us on to work well into the nighttime. A full day of painting was not enough--the evening beckoned with nocturnes! Some of the most lovely and original work of the week came during these evening painting sessions. The top photo is one of Maggie's nocturnes, painted in the little hamlet where we stayed. Fantastic! Nobody does it like Maggie! Just below is Bob Dodson's beautiful painting--painted a few yards down the road. I love the surprising stripe of lavender in Bob's painting. And Bob says that somebody inside happened to turn on a lamp just as he was finishing his painting, so he grabbed that beautiful little bit of orange.

(c) Bob Dodson, 2015

Back home, I did a little research on the history of nocturnes. I read that James Abbott McNeill Whistler coined the term "nocturne" as it applies to paintings. Before Whistler,