New Work, Winter 2019: An Explanation

Some people say art needs no explanation.  I’m not sure who those people are, but I disagree.

Is this a floral? Or a still life? Who knows? But it got over 1,200 likes on Instagram!

Because if you look at the six paintings I just put up on my “New Work” page, you would be forgiven if you were a bit confused.  Three still lifes with berries, ok--but what’s with the complete abstracts? And then a very realistic piece with flowers (is that a floral? Or a still life?). What’s going on?

Turns out, I haven’t posted new work on my website or a new blog since November (how did THAT happen?). But that doesn’t mean I haven’t been working hard on my painting, and learning a lot.  And my focus hasn’t been so much on WHAT I’ve been painting as what I’ve been painting ON. I am learning to paint on canvas (and also on aluminum panel, but not so much).

Some of you may have heard me whine and kvetch in the past--I want to paint bigger pieces, bigger, bigger! And paper only goes so big--unless you pay outrageous sums for highly specialized pieces that are hard to come by.  But I didn’t enjoy painting on canvas, it’s different, it feels scratchy under my brush, and the canvas kind of bounces when you paint on it, and then, it’s so big, where will I store it?

Hear the whine?

But this summer, I bit the bullet and began working on canvas, gradually getting bigger and bigger.  I’m learning. I’m getting accustomed to the bounce, to the scratchiness, to the greater amount of paint I need. I’m getting there. Now, back to the paintings.

I had such fun with the circles and straight brush strokes in this painting, I had to do more!

So, the top row of paintings on the New Works page is all 24” wide and 36” tall.  Kind of bigger, but not that much different…And then I loved the “Cherries Jubilee” painting so much, with all the circles and straight brush marks that I ended up doing a very festive painting, of just circles and straight brush strokes.  It looks a little like how going to the circus feels, and it makes me so happy to look at, that I felt like singing, which is why it is called “How Can I Keep From Singing”. And then, I wanted to keep going a little in that direction, which is why the next painting took that idea on.  “Joy Goes Viral” is a square (notoriously tough, compositionally) on canvas, 24” by 24”.

But then I took on a larger canvas, 30” x 40”, with a table full of spring flowers in vases in front of me, and for the life of me, I could not make an abstract painting from them.  I tried...but the more I painted, the more it looked like what I was seeing--which is not such a bad thing, really!

So now you know a little more about the why’s behind these works.  I’ve got a 36” by 48” canvas waiting for me this week…

Jane Austen Art

A view of the garden behind Jane Austen’s house in Chawton, England.

The quick scoop: if you are interested in purchasing items with my watercolor paintings on them, go to:

https://www.zazzle.com/janeaustenart

There you will find all sorts of lovely products available with watercolors I have painted, inspired by locales where Jane Austen lived. Notecards, planners, mugs, trays, prints--all sorts of great swag.

One of the best recommendations came from my daughter, who looked at the website and said “Good thing you told me you made these, Mom, or I would have bought some of this for you for Christmas.”

Now here is the background, in case you want more history:

Several years ago, knowing my love for Jane Austen, another one of my daughters gave me a wonderful book for Christmas (do you sense a theme here? Daughters + Christmas + Jane Austen) called A Walk with Jane Austen, by Lori Smith.

I loved the book, and in reading it, realized that the author actually lived in Northern Virginia; then I discovered that she actually went to my church! After hearing her speak there, I introduced myself, and a friendship was born that has grown deep, as we relate to one another not just as Austen aficionados, but as artists digging deep into our vocations.

A view of the city of Bath.

This past summer, Lori approached me with the idea that we collaborate on this project: I would create lovely paintings of places relating to Jane Austen from the photographs Lori had taken while traveling and researching her book. Lori would work with the website Zazzle to have my paintings made into beautiful products, and she would do all the marketing (thank you, Lori!). And so it was launched just a few weeks ago.

I’ve made six different paintings so far. And there will be more! Hopefully, this will be lucrative enough to allow us to go back to England, where I can make even more paintings, on site!

You can follow Jane Austen Art on Facebook, or on Instagram @jane.austen.art.

Don't Forget Your Hat!

My list, scribbled early one morning after a sleepless night--note that "hat" is underlined, but I still almost forgot to pack it!

Plans to go the Giverny were made months in advance, so I had plenty of time to worry--er--plan.  Like the sleepless night I spent trying to decide which paint colors to bring (both Cadmium Yellow Medium AND Cadmium Yellow Light? Burnt Umber, yes or no?). And the afternoon spent wrestling with the new portable easel to make sure I could put it together (there were no directions, eventually I had to call the supplier). The list of supplies needed  to paint “en plein air” (a fancy way to say “outside”) grew longer. In the midst of the list, emphatically, was HAT.

Packing was a long and careful process, and in the end I almost forgot the hat...  A cloth one that had belonged to my mother, I had kept it mainly out of sentimentality, but it was light and squishable, so at the last minute, it was stuffed into a corner of the suitcase.

Second day of painting--I've learned to stand and put the palette on the folding stool, but I'm still forgetting my hat.

The first painting session in Monet’s gardens felt a bit like a scene from the Three Stooges.  Once again, the easel almost bested me.  I sat to paint, with my palette on my lap, dropped a brush and put my shoulder into the palette when I leaned down to grab it, so splat went paint all over the front of my new painting shirt.  And I forgot my hat.

Eventually, I learned to stand to paint, and put the palette on the stool.  I showed the easel who was boss and it responded meekly.  And I began to remember my hat, because I learned:

No shade in Lavacourt, looking across the Seine to Vethueil--the hat was vital! Note how I am nonchalantly sticking palette knives in shirt pockets in order to have them handy.

Plein air painting is OUTSIDE and

1. Outside can be really sunny and burn your head or

2. Outside can be a little rainy but you can still paint if your head is covered and

3. Outside can be windy and a hat keeps your hair from blowing in your face and you don’t get paint on your face from trying to keep your hair from blowing in your eyes when you wear a hat and

4. Outside can have bugs--well, actually, the hat doesn’t really help that much with the bugs.

The list of what to bring for plein air painting is long, there is lots to remember--whatever you do, don’t forget the hat!

Last day of painting and I am a pro by now; there were a few raindrops but the hat them off my glasses and my gaze focused on my work.

The Struggle is Real

So I painted in Monet’s gardens in Giverny, where, of course, Monet himself painted. And I was duly inspired--more to come on those times! But as part of the workshop, we explored other small towns of Upper Normandy. One day, we visited Vethueil (and don’t ask me to pronounce it, I have only just managed to learn to spell it), where Monet lived prior to Giverny, and where, legend has it, he left with his family in the middle of the night when he couldn’t pay the rent, leaving paintings for payment.

From there, we took a small ferry across the river Seine to Lavacourt, where, on the banks of the river, we set up our easels to look back across the river and paint the view of Vethueil--the same vantage point Monet painted from, over a century earlier.

 A small cafe, moss growing on its thatched roof, overlooked the riverbank where we painted, and was probably where Monet grabbed a bite of lunch, as did we.

Not much has changed of the village view, except that the trees are taller, and the boats that ply the river have motors instead of sails.

What was it that so caught my imagination about painting there, right there, where Monet worked?  What made that day, that spot, different?

Somehow, a deep connection grew as I focused, concentrated, and yes, struggled, to find the right colors, the right shapes, the right brush strokes to convey this moment in time, this place.  The same type of struggle, perhaps, that Monet felt, that so many artists have felt and still feel, as they dig deep into themselves.  It is a struggle that frustrates us, that stymies us, that won’t let us go, and that rewards us like nothing else.  

That is the struggle out of which my painting, Vethueil View, was created.  
 

"Verthueil View", acrylic on paper, 10" wide by 13" high

On the right, the house Monet rented...and abandoned.

The ivy-covered walls and moss-covered thatched roof make the cafe look as though it grew out of the riverbank

My Trip to France--the Basics

The backyards of some houses in Giverny

So for all of you who were wondering what this France-painting-garden-Monet-thing was all about, here is a basic explanation, kind of like an FAQ document without the Q’s.

Claude Monet--incredibly influential and prolific French Impressionist painter, who lived a long life and actually was NOT a starving artist, bought a house and grounds in

Giverney (pronounced “GEE-vair-nee”, with a soft “G”; remember folks, we’re in France), about an hour by train outside Paris, where he proceeded to create remarkable

Gardens, including a water garden with lots of beautiful water lilies that he painted over and over, and that house and those gardens have been carefully restored and are currently

The front door to Monet's house, viewed through the rose arbors

The famous water gardens, in the evening rain

The inside of Monet's house is as popular as the gardens.

Open to the Public every day of the week from 9:30 to 6:00, and are very popular with international tourists and French citizens alike, which makes it full of so many

Crowds of visitors that it is is impossible/forbidden to paint there during opening hours, but the Powers that Be give permission to a small number of artists to paint there before the gardens open to the public in the morning and after the gardens close in the evening.

I got to paint there through Art Colony Giverny, along with 5 other artists, including my sister Libby.  We also traveled about and painted in other beautiful areas in the vicinity where Monet and other famous artists lived and worked.

So that is the basic foundation of info that will help you understand the blog posts that will follow in the next few days.

Memories of Green Springs

On Monday, I dropped my painting off at Green Spring Gardens for the upcoming Potomac Valley Watercolorists show, and stayed to help with the process of receiving. It was one of those instances of either highly organized chaos, or slightly chaotic organization.  Which is to say that those in charge had things well organized but after all, they were working with some of the least-organizable creatures on earth, artists.  

Afterwards, as I headed toward my car, the blazing colors of the garden’s blooms took my breath away.  I thought “I have never seen Green Springs look this lovely!”  Which then brought back so many memories of the years that I have visited, exhibited, known and loved Green Springs.

In 2001, I entered this show for the first time, a brand-new member of PVW; the whole family came to the reception, with my two little girls in matching dresses, and the neighbor children came too.  They romped all over the park together, discovering the walk through the woods, with the bridge over the stream where you can play Poohsticks, and the pond with turtles, and ducks to feed.

Each year, I marvel at the artistry and beauty of the paintings in the show, works that capture and sometimes rival the beauty of the gardens that surround them.

As the years of exhibiting there have continued, another little girl joined our family and came to know the path through the woods and the Poohsticks game.

I’ve painted outside, along that path; I’ve painted the stream, and the pond.

Then, two years ago, one of my entries in the show won the award for Best in Show--and the painting sold! That is one of my favorite memories.

So this Sunday, as I return for another reception, I’ll enjoy the camaraderie of my fellow PVW’ers, marvel at the loveliness I see in the art hanging on the walls and in the gardens themselves, and make a few more memories.  Maybe this will be the first year I buy and bring home a plant for my own garden. 

The Sibley Exhibit

Frequently these days, when I see friends here and there, they will ask “Where can I see your art?” Aside from “on my website”, or “in my house”, it is always great to be able to name a public space where they can visit.  

So I’m especially pleased to be able to say, for the next 8 weeks or so: “Sibley Hospital” in Washington, D.C. (https://www.hopkinsmedicine.org/sibley-memorial-hospital/index.html).

Having had the (dubious) privilege of spending plenty of time in excellent medical facilities over the years, dealing with family medical issues, I know from personal experience that having beautiful, original art in those spaces was incredibly helpful to me during stressful times. 

What a genuine privilege, then, to be able to return the favor by sharing my work with the patients, families and staff of Sibley.  

The 16 pieces are hanging in a corridor off the main cafeteria.  While there is nothing fancy or elegant about the corridor--it is not a gallery--how delightful it is that by hanging in this hallway, the art is accessible to all and highly visible.  No worries about whether people will see the work, the foot traffic is constant (remember, it’s right outside the cafeteria!).

Its location also makes it easier for me to explain to people (those who have no reason to be going to the Sibley cafeteria in the normal course of their lives) how to get there to see it, given that Sibley is a bit of a rabbit warren... 

If you come into the hospital by the main entrance, just ask at the information desk how to get to the cafeteria.  Then go through the cafeteria and out the end by the cashiers--that’s the hallway where the paintings hang.  Since Sibley is undergoing some significant construction, making your way there to see the paintings can be a bit of an adventure--but an adventure that, hopefully, you will find well worth the effort.

Exact date that the exhibit comes down is still being determined--it will be up until at least April 12, probably longer, but don’t delay!  Plan to see it soon!

What's in a name...

Who knew?

Who knew people could have so many opinions about the title of an abstract painting?

A week ago, I posted a photo of an abstract that I had just finished; eager to share it, I hadn’t  settled on a title, so asked my friends and followers to suggest one.  Well, did they ever!  From macro view to micro, from the indefinite to the very specific, they came in.  Some people “saw” images, some felt reminded of a concept. 

Perhaps, knowing my work, a couple people saw flowers:  “Blue Blossoms”; “Blue Poppies” (and actually, there were blue flowers in the still life that inspired the painting).

The arts world at large influenced these titles: “Legato”; “Dancers”.

One person said she saw a cool map of Africa and Western Europe, which led to the following ideas: “Hands Across the Water”; “Bird’s Eye View”; “Pangea”.

Some folks were weather-focused: “Forecast”; “Nothing But Blue Skies Ahead”;“Cooling Down”; “Winter Thaw”.

And I suppose, once it has thawed, you can enjoy “A Day at the Park”.  

Perhaps, at the park, you might be relaxing and gazing up and see “A Calf in the Clouds”.  

And after the park, you could go home and watch “The 2018 Olympics”.

How to choose?  I actually tried stringing them all together, but the best I could do was “Blue Blossoms Dancing at a Day at the Park after a Winter Thaw that Cooled Down the Forecast so there were Nothing But Blue Skies Ahead with a Calf in the Clouds that you see with a Bird’s Eye View of Hands Across the Water”. Whew!

Actually, what I decided upon is none of the above.  The one I liked best, that was wonderfully enigmatic and allowed for almost as much speculation as the painting itself, was “Third Day”.  

Thanks for the title, Megan Greto!