The Maine Event

"Sea at Ogunquit"
Oil on Canvas, 24 3/16 x 29 1/8
Edward Hopper, 1914

I have just returned from a painting trip to Maine. I was graciously hosted at the family home of a good painting buddy. She invited three other painters to join her for the week's adventure. We had great weather, and there was no shortage of painting motifs. I think I could stay on Bailey Island for months--or years--and still not tire of painting there.

"Across Linekin Bay, Maine"
Oil on Panel, 8 x 9 3/4
Robert Henri, 1903

Maine has attracted more than its share of artists through the years, Edward Hopper spent nine summers painting in Maine, early in his career. His luscious landscapes from that period are a wonder to behold, and are a far cry from his later urban scenes. If you enjoy such things, the Wall Street Journal just published an article

Doubt

"Shrimpers"
Oil on Canvas, 24 x 36
(c) Colin Page

I have been following the work of Colin Page for quite some time. He is an extremely talented artist who lives in Maine. You may recall that I have written about another Maine artist, Connie Hayes, and I believe that Connie has been an influence on Colin. In the world of perceptual painting, it seems that everybody's "bloodlines" cross somewhere!

"Secret Island"
20 x 36, Oil on Canvas
(c) Colin Page

I was perusing Colin's blog this week, and came across this quotation. Though it is long, it is worth sharing in its entirety. It captures perfectly some of the ups and downs of the painting life. Colin was responding to a question whether he was pleased with his paintings, and whether they had become what he was striving for. He answered thus:

Sometimes I am struggling with every part of a painting and I get in such a funk that I don’t think anything I have painted has any value, and other days I feel like I can do no wrong while standing at the easel. Of course it feels better to have a good day, but they are rare. Usually I am seeing things I want to get better at. Even though it is frustrating to constantly see flaws in our work, that is the only way to improve. If we don’t see flaws in our paintings, we become repetitive and uninteresting. To push painting to better results we always have to be a little disappointed in our work. We have to know that we can do better, and even though the painting you just finished may be the result of your most sincere hard work and effort, we have to know that the lessons from that painting will help do the next painting better. The painters whose careers produced the highest quality work were all searching for something just out of reach and doing everything they could to capture something fleeting. It may drive you crazy and be disappointing. But look at your earlier work and the improvements you’ve already made and imagine how much further you can go from here. A creative life is a constant battle between the disheartening and the hopeful.

Don't you just love that?! "A constant battle between the disheartening and the hopeful". Sometimes, at least in my case, the pendulum can swing between those two in a matter of hours. Or minutes!

"Around the Bend'
(c) Colin Page

Colin went on to share this quotation from Robert Hughes:

“The greater the artist, the greater the doubt. Perfect confidence is given to the less talented as a consolation prize. Indeed, the idea that doubt can be heroic, if it is locked into a structure as grand as that of the paintings of Cezanne’s old age, is one of the keys to our century.” 

"Masonic Street"
18 x 24, Oil on Canvas
(c) Colin Page

It's good for me to keep in mind, when my own pendulum has swung to the disheartening side, that the struggle is universal. And that every painting is a springboard to the next, informing the next and allowing you to move forward. As Connie Hayes says, the path to improvement is not linear, it's spiral...

Roman Empire

"Still Standing"
16 x 12, Oil on Linen
(c) Lesley Powell 2015

This summer, I became fascinated with Romans' influence on the south of France. From the pattern of the fields, to the ancient stone bridges, the mark of the ancient Roman Empire cannot be missed. These sights brought back memories of a trip I took to Italy some years ago. Specifically, I kept recalling a visit to Carsulae--one of the most impressive architectural ruins in Italy.*

"Ruins"
12 x 16, Oil on Linen
(c) Lesley Powell 2015

I visited Carsulae on an extremely hot day, with a cloudless, cobalt blue sky. I love to explore ruins, and to ruminate on what might have happened there. I wonder who might have walked those paths, and imagine how spectacular the ancient structures must have been. Besides the mysteries of the past that the ruins evoke, I also love

Two Tents

Greek Festival I
12 x 12, Oil on Board
(c) Lesley Powell 2015

It's that time of the year again in Charlotte--the annual YIASOU! Greek Festival starts tomorrow (September 10, 2015). I drive by the site every day, and I have become completely entranced by the bright blue and white striped tents erected for the Festival. I've always loved the architecture of the Greek Orthodox church, and now I am obsessed with these boldly striped tents. I keep returning to the site to paint the tents from different angles. (I am reminded of the joke about the woman who complained to her psychiatrist that she could not stop dreaming about teepees and wigwams. His diagnosis: "Too tense". HA!).

"Greek Festival II"
Oil on Paper
(c) Lesley Powell 2015

The top painting was my first one. Love the brightness and freshness, but

Seen from Above

Betrand de Miollis, on a rooftop in Paris

During the hot summer months, I have been looking out my studio window at the activity nearby. I have wanted to paint the view from my window--partly because it is an interesting view, and partly (I must admit) because I want to work in the comfort of air-conditioning. But I have been afraid to tackle it. I have been unsure that I could make the third floor point of view, looking down, successful.

"The Census at Bethlehem"
Pieter Bruegel the Elder, 1566

Well. A little trot through art history has almost convinced me to set my fears aside and give it a go. I read that as long ago as the 1500's, artists would climb church steeples in order to get an ariel view of their villages! Just above is a 16th century painting by Pieter Bruegel the Elder, very convincing from an elevated point of view. And If Bertrand de Mollis can take the vantage point shown in the top photo,