Gallery! Welcome to Winter(ish)! I’m honored to be included in another group show at Art for the People Gallery in Austin. I’ll have 4 paintings in the show covering a wide range of topics – beaches, mountains, dogs, rowing, and champagne!
Ready for the ShowMIMOSABEACH DOGFLATIRONSMORNING ROWFalling into Winter show
The show runs October 28th, 2023 – January 5th, 2024, opening reception Saturday, November 4th, 12-4pm CDT.
Reach out if you have any questions, or better yet go to the gallery and check out all the arts:
MIMOSA | 12 x 16″ | Oil on Canvas Board | $400
MORNING ROW | 9 x 12″ | Oil on Canvas Paper | $275
The coast of Maine is one of the most beautiful in the country. Needless to say it provides plenty of inspiration for painting. While this is not a plein air piece per se, I did a study sketch plein air and spent hours on Fishermans Point enjoying the cool sea breeze and beautiful views.
The inclusion of the home on the sea cliff is not only intentional in this composition, but it is the name my wife gave the house, “Winners”. We have no idea who they are, but we’ve strolled by 2 Bay Road often and we know what we would do if we won the lottery.
This piece is a study of sorts, in large part because it’s a very tricky subject matter for me, combining all the hard things into one painting – boats, complex architecture, and rocks. Man, the effing rocks! I can say, however, this turned out pretty well and the learning experience was very rewarding. I also had the good sense to setup the time lapse camera, both as entertainment for all of you dear readers, as well as a way to remind myself how I went about this painting when I decide to do something similar.
SPRING POINT LEDGE LIGHTHOUSE | 6×8”| Oil on Canvas Board
Finished! I’ve posted a couple of progress related updates regarding this composition and I’m happy to say the 3rd time is a charm… this one’s done! If you look at the previous progress post, you’ll notice the removal of the tiny island fortress of Fort Gorges, an extreme application of artistic license. It was giving me fits compositionally, in part because the intent to use it as a balance with the lighthouse on the right was more of a distraction than something complimentary. I was going to simply mute the greens of the trees and push it back in the scene, ensuring the lighthouse was the focus, but what I discovered was that it’s such an unusual structure that it took over the composition as the viewer is sucked into wondering “what the hell is that?” I mean seriously, how often do you see an old fort on an island with a miniature forest growing in the center? I tried to convince myself that I painted it so realistically and thus it was a distraction, but in reality it’s simply weird to see out of the full context of Casco Bay, so I wiped it out… in the interest of artistic integrity.
The fort was easy enough to wipe out, but the issue it was meant to address, namely a well balanced composition, was still a problem. Not a pro at just dropping shit into a painting out of thin air, this seemed like a good scenario for practice. I’m pretty happy with the result, but it took a conscious effort to ignore details and simply work in some loose brush strokes. I also incorporated some of the ubiquitous lobster buoys found in and around Casco Bay, and lastly some distant sailboats to give the sense of an active afternoon on the water.
As to the focal point, the final result of the lighthouse and the complex stones of the jetty came out pretty well given my relatively minimal subject matter experience. As any of you artists know, tackling new subjects can be a reminder of the impossibility of knowing how to paint anything and everything equally well. The process was very enjoyable and satisfying, so there will be more lighthouses in the near future. I might expand my new found rock painting knowledge to some coastal scenes, too.
SPRING POINT LIGHTHOUSE | 8 x 6” | Graphite on Paper
This is a preliminary drawing for a plein air session I plan to do later this week. This particular lighthouse is accessible via a jetty made of granite, which I can say from personal experience is deceptively long. As is the case with many lighthouses, the setting is often more impressive than the structure, which makes sense given they’re designed to protect navigators from the very dangerous geographies upon which they sit. Ironically, in a world where technology has made many lighthouses functionally irrelevant, they’re wildly popular destinations for visitors to explore… on land.
The other attraction to lighthouses, as an artist, is they’re much like snowflakes whereby no two are alike, so there’s something new to tackle with every composition. Combined with their intriguing landscapes, lighthouses are a must do as an artist.
I like to do detailed drawings instead of quick sketches when the subject is complicated or something new. The jetty is very intimidating for me, so it was important to get a handle on how to simplify while not losing the feel of all those massive granite blocks. I’m not sure if the drawing approach will translate to the painting, but a few things become clear from this exercise. First, the layout of the blocks needs to have defined directional lines in the fore and mid ground planes to capture the overall shape of the jetty. Secondly, there are numerous tiny shadows and value variations that give the blocks their distinct shapes, which will require some trial and error once the paint hits the canvas.
This is a follow-up from the Gaggle of Geese post a few weeks ago. The finishing “touches” for the studio ended up being a little more like finish “construction”, but I finally got to a point that seemed good enough.
Let me admit, I don’t like this composition, but I really like parts. Others might see something more appealing, as art tends to work that way, but it seems artists trying to sell works tend to force themselves into liking everything they paint. To the uninitiated, know that they’re lying. There’s not an artist out there who likes even most of their final pieces. At the end of the day, our compositions tend to have really cool elements that we love, and various faults that distract us to no end.
MILL CREEK POND was a joy to paint. If you’ve read the previous post and seen the video of the geese, you understand why. In terms of the studio work, I was really focused on simplifying the trees. Apparently I ignored a few basic compositional tenets along the way and ended up with two trees perfectly aligned left and right, meeting in the middle of the canvas. So annoying, but that’s what happens if you don’t step back frequently at the beginning and take the time to ensure the layout works.
Regardless of the “amateur hour” compositional oversights, I had a lot of fun learning how to simplify the masses of the trees, especially the purple oak. Living in Texas, there are no purple oaks, and everything that’s green has a coating of yellow cedar pollen, so things skew very warm. Painting a very dark purple oak tree with huge leaves that gather in numerous masses is, well, an awkward endeavor and hard to create on the first go. Ultimately I gave up, said it’s good enough, and pivoted to the warmth of the setting sun on the trunks, grass, and lily pads.
Hope you enjoy the final product regardless of my self-critique. It worked out in the end… kinda. Thanks for reading!
In an effort to up my “en plein air” game, I’m going to do a few sessions this summer focused on simplification. The plan is to either find scenes that are lacking details and complexity, or zoom in on the focal area of a detailed scene and cut out the noise in an effort to simplify.
The Preble Shed is an example of the former approach, namely it ain’t complicated… it’s a shed. However, I spent a lot of time also streamlining the background, almost ignoring what trees were actually in the background. I also made a point to blend, perhaps even muddle, the tree edges into the sky. I think it worked pretty well and added atmospheric perspective, something that has eluded many of my previous efforts. Progress!
Not surprisingly, the shed itself was the real challenge. It has a thick coating of paint because there were a number of re-dos as I struggled to find a good light and dark color pairing. I noticed that so many professional artists who do sun-drenched urban landscapes tend to focus on white or very light yellow, using a contrasting blue-purple for the shadowed sides of the structure, which works really well, but honestly strikes me as a little boring. My goal with the shed was to use some hues that could be incorporated into other elements of the landscape – namely the flanking tree in the foreground, the fence in the background, and the sunlit grasses. I went with orange, about the 50th attempt, and can’t tell if I stopped there because I was satisfied or just worn out trying.
I typically don’t share work in progress posts, but I think that tendency will have to change as I ramp up my “en plein air” sessions. Why? Well, there are so many entertaining things that happen when you’re in the field trying to make art. Some of it can be frustrating, like sudden wind gusts that knock over everything, to entertaining and curious, such as bugs that end up as impasto effects in a painting.
Today, I was painting by a beautiful pond on a calm afternoon, as if that weren’t perfect enough, when along comes a gaggle (is it gaggle?) of geese. Apparently I had setup adjacent to their entry ramp into the pond, but my presence didn’t distract them at all. Usually I have a dog in tow, which tends to keep all manner of water fowl in the water, but I didn’t have my handy apprentice, Zip, with me today. She doesn’t care much about the geese, but she finds goose poop to be the caviar delicacy of the great outdoors.
As to the artwork, the focal point, which is impossible to tell at this mid-paint stage, is the strip of water lilies wrapped around the right side of the composition. I was only in the field for a little over an hour, but I’m happy with the structure of the painting and the aggressive approach with the dark values, which I tend to screw up initially.
Stay tuned for an update of the finished work in the studio. Thanks for reading!
What the hell is a “flatiron” you ask? The really boring definition is from geomorphology, which I won’t repeat here, but the layperson’s description is “cool looking red and orange rocks pointing out of the ground at extreme angles.”
This was a plein air outing just south of Boulder, Colorado, in an area called Eldorado Canyon, at the South Mesa Trailhead to be specific. I was fortunate to spend this painting session with my mom, who had picked the location because of the great views of the Flatirons. I love seeing the Flatirons from this vantage point because you can see Devil’s Thumb very clearly and easily appreciate the jagged topography.
The location is also unique because if you turn around and look east, one can see a mere 5 -10 miles away the largest superfund site the in US history, Rocky Flats. As far as I could tell, the Flatirons weren’t glowing from the plutonium trigger waste, but I’m glad the wind was blowing in the other direction today. This may seem like a very weird mash of nature in one direction and nuclear waste in the other, but Colorado is a state full of contrasts – politically, environmentally, and geographically. As artists, though, it’s great because we all know stark contrasts make for good compositions.
I spent about 2-3 hours in the field working on this composition. I had never painted the Flatirons before, and not much by way of mountain landscapes either, so this was a challenge. Being on-site was definitely a plus in terms of capturing the essence of the Flatirons and helped shape the decision to use a palette knife and some impasto to shape the rock faces. It was also a little easier for me to get a sense of what I was looking at because decades earlier I had learned to rock climb on these very mountains! In fact, my first “real” rappel was from the top of Devil’s Thumb.
The final few hours of work was done in the studio back in Austin. In truth I had some fundamental trouble getting the depth right, namely the whole thing looked very flat, so I set it aside for a few weeks and returned with a fresh perspective. Turns out the greens were too similar throughout the piece, and the darker values in the middle ground weren’t cool enough. I think the final adjustments, especially the cooler greens in the middle ground and horizon proved to be a vast improvement.
If you’re in the Denver / Boulder area, I highly recommend a visit to Eldorado Canyon. There are some great views (obviously), beautiful hikes, and you can also watch some of the craziest free climbers in the country scale the canyon walls.
Reference PhotoHomestead at TrailheadSouth Mesa Area MapSetup and ProgressVery Flat, No Depth, Too GreenFinal Composition With Depth
MORNING ROW LAKE AUSTIN | 9 x 12″ | Oil on Canvas Paper
First, let me give props to the reference photo, which I came across randomly while mindlessly scrolling through my Instagram feed. Thank you @lakeaustin360 for the wonderful shot!
I started this painting as a visiting student in my mother’s art class, using my plein air setup, but inside… which was a little weird at first, but it was better than sitting down for 2 hours! I guess this piece is a pseudo plein air piece, especially given the subject matter, but ultimately it was finished in the studio back in Austin earlier this week.
This is intended to be a study, as I anticipate making a go of this on a larger scale. I love the colors and the serene nature of the composition, despite knowing the rower must be exhausted. Or about to be. I struggled a little with putting the rower in the center of the canvas, so I made sure the horizontal positioning was dropped to the bottom 1/3rd. I tried to use other compositional elements to ensure the piece was balanced, namely the oar bars pointing into the rower, and the color sandwich effect of the orange from the trees on shore and reflected in the water. Lastly, the subtle glance of the rower to the right gives some additional interest in terms of what’s happening just out of sight. Like I said, it’s one hell of a reference photo!
Lastly, Lake Austin is so crowded with paddle boards most of the year, the mere fact that a rower could find some peace and quiet brings a smile to my face.
BIRD DOG is intended to capture the pure joy of a dog playing on the beach. If I got it right, you should smile or giggle at the scene. For those of you who love birds, rest assured no birds were harmed in the making of this painting.
I was inspired by a photo of a dog playing on a beach, but the most striking thing for me was the stylistic impact of the silhouette. There’s something compelling about the lack of details in the darkened shapes of the dog and birds, perhaps giving more to the imagination of the viewer, allowing it to be personalized. Additionally, the silhouettes lend themselves well to a sense of motion. I’m not sure why it strikes me this way, but I think it has something to do with the stark value contrasts created by the silhouettes on the colored landscape.
Broken Color Palette
My mom happened to mention her recent use of the broken color technique on one of her compositions, something I’d not heard of previously. As it turns out, the technique whih proved to be a very exciting way to add depth and vibrancy to the composition. In short, broken color is a technique often used by the Impressionists that leveraged optical color mixing to make things look less flat and murky. This article, Broken Color and Optical Color Mixing, does a great job describing and illustrating the technique.
I used this approach to re-do the reflective elements on the beach, which I must say was a huge improvement. I took a black and white photo of the color palette of the beach to ensure the values were the same, which makes the technique more effective because the various colors work as one and don’t compete with each other. I’m very excited to use this in my plein air landscapes in the coming months!
BIRD DOG is also a foray into waves, another subject relatively new to me at this level of detail. I enjoy seascapes and incorporating water into my landscapes, but most of that has been lakes and streams. Capturing the force and complexity of ocean waves is a whole different endeavor, but I thoroughly enjoyed the challenge and will incorporate waves in future works.
The final decision to be made was regarding the birds. My wife, a frequent source of very helpful suggestions and insights to work in progress, suggested I pare down the array of birds. At some point, she noted, the number of birds pushes the feel of the work from playful fun on the beach to terror at the seaside. And she was right! As I added the bird silhouettes in the final stage, at 14 it felt like any more would start to slide into Hitchcock territory. Compared to the study, which had 21 birds and begged the question “who’s chasing who?”, the final composition was more playful and struck the right “dog on beach having a great time running around like it was the best day of their life” tone.
Thanks for reading and don’t forget to go play with your pups!
Early progress shot reveals previously used canvasBefore use of broken colorRe-painted beach using broken colorRealization that beach was lacking, saw same problem in studyBroken color beach and birds added to completed Bird Dog
Art Bern 