A spate of stellar weather in late September inspired me to venture north for a week of painting
en plein air. While only 40 or 50 miles from home, the rustic cottage where I stayed on Little Traverse Lake provided a perfect launching pad for many desirable spots in Sleeping Bear Dunes National Lakeshore. With no other agenda, this unfettered time for painting was reminiscent of the two residencies I'd enjoyed in this area in 2009 and 2011. It had been a few months, however, since I'd been outdoors to paint.
Paintings outdoors is quite a bit different than in the studio. First, the artist has to deal with whatever conditions arise in the chosen location. Sand, bugs, weather, the fact that you left your hand cleaner back at the cottage, all contribute their particular anxieties to the process. Add to this the overwhelming amount of available information and the artist soon realizes what little control can be exercised in such circumstances. One sometimes completes a painting grateful to have simply covered a tiny panel with pigment.
On a good day, however, this artist releases concerns about particular results. I go out in hopes of catching some beautiful effect of the light on the landscape. Yet I'm fully aware that it's mostly a series of happy accidents that may produce delight in my own or a viewer's eye. The charm of a
plein air painting often lies in exactly this sort of unselfconscious response to the subject: a stroke of unusual color, the stain of underpainting where the brush missed a spot, the loose execution of a simple abstract design.
"They" say a painting must be 90% completed on site to be considered a
plein air piece. I'm not sure exactly who gave
them the say-so, but the dictum is probably wise. Once back in the studio, artists are tempted to tweak their outdoor efforts and sometimes an imperfect gem is lost in the cutting room. Since outdoor paintings reflect spontaneity rather than refinement, one learns that trusting the original impulse is more artful than second-guessing it. On a beautiful day in autumn, when it's all about the wind in the trees and clouds scudding across the sky, I'm becoming more content to leave the re-working of an idea to the long studio hours winter will bring soon enough.
The work from this recent trip and other outdoor paintings may be
viewed online. If you're going to be Frankfort, MI for our annual Fall Festival, you're welcome to stop by my Studio and Gallery and see the work firsthand. Enjoy some seasonal refreshments next Saturday from 4:00 - 6:00 p.m., right after the Big Pumpkin gets dropped from a crane on a unsuspecting derelict car in the Open Space.
