Blog

Ah, what great intentions I had for a whole weekend of painting en plein air during the paint out/retreat at the Mission San Antonio de Padua in Monterey County, CA! This event was hosted by the California Art Club, a very prestigious art organization whose very accomplished members include the top plein air painters in the U.S. I have always wanted to go on a painting retreat where everything is provided from the bed to the meals along with gorgeous scenery. Being surrounded by other artists all doing their creative thing is inspiring yet intimidating to me. I like to think of all of us in a giant creative bubble, our blissful zones stretching across the fields to bump up against each other, to nudge each other along. Like the stream of consciousness which I believe runs through everything and everyone around us and helps carry everyone along on their journey. Then why, oh why, is it so scary to paint on location with lots of other people around?

Here's a recap of the weekend:

My friend and fellow Studio Channel Islands Artist-in-Residence Anette Power and I headed out mid morning on a Friday for the 4-5 hour drive north. We stopped in Avila Beach, a picturesque little beach town with brightly colored shops, for a delicious lunch. Next, we stopped in Paso Robles so I could introduce Anette to Anne Laddon, founder of Studios on the Park, an art center similar to ours. I knew the two would hit it off and they did! Anette was invited to participate in an upcoming plein air "Quick Draw" event in Paso Robles.

That made it worth us getting to the mission pretty late in the day, with just enough time to check in to our rooms and meet the other 40something artists in the dining room. Some of the artists had been at the mission all day painting and had already produced some nice work. I felt my usual guilt at not having been more productive that first day. It's something I wrestle with all the time, never quite allowing myself to enjoy some down time. I was determined to get at least 3-4 paintings done on Saturday!

After dinner Joan, our wonderful mission guide, gave us a tour of the grounds. She is quite the storyteller and we loved the tales about Rosario, the Holy Cat of the mission and how he came to his name, the history of the Salinan Indians of the area and Padre Serra who founded the mission in 1771, and the little girl Gigi who is the only person buried inside the mission. This mission is the only one in California not to be in a town or surrounded by farm fields. The location is remote and pretty much the way it was when it was founded except for the large Army base all around.

If you'd like to learn more about the mission and even plan a trip there (whether to paint or just relax), check out their link here. The mission was ordered by the State of California to be retrofit for earthquake safety and needs to raise $15 million to avoid being shut down. They love visitors, either groups, families or individuals for day trips or lodging. If you are a painter they also have 65 artists' work for sale in their gift shop, so you might want to consider joining those ranks or even donating a piece to their fundraisers. The rooms are sparse with just two beds and a sink, the showers and toilets are communal, but I loved that simplicity. Since there was no TV and no internet we went to bed early every night and were ready for a full day of painting after breakfast at eight. 

Knowing that I would be able to concentrate better on that first scary painting of the day if I was not surrounded by a lot of people, I headed out into the field close to the Grist Mill. I worried a bit about the rattle snakes which were already coming awake in the warm spring air (and Joan had filled our heads with lots of tales about them coming out of the rafters of the mill, living in the adobe walls all over the grounds, etc.), but I liked the simple design created by the shape of the building, the low wall of the auqa duct connected to it and the field around it enough to put those thoughts aside. But to be honest, it was mostly the fear of having someone look over my shouder that was greater than the fear of snakes! Why, after all this time, is it still so hard to tune out other people and their opinions?

That first painting did nothing to easy my trepidations. Simply put, I hated it. It looked amateurish and sloppy instead of fresh and lively. I didn't like the surface I used even though it was not a new one. I wrestled with my demons of insecurity and used all of the positive affirmations I could think of to not beat myself up and pack it all in! One person did stop by and wanted to see what I had done, but fortunately I had already packed it in my backpack. (Back in the studio, I have rinsed the painting off and will try again but this time with more oomph!)

It was time for lunch and I was slogging my way to the dining room, shoulders drooping from the heavy backpack and somber thoughts. As I passed a few rusted old tools and wagons scattered throughout the many acres of the mission I took out my camera to shoot close ups, composing closely cropped abstracts in my viewfinder and getting more and more excited. Dropping all my gear to the ground I spent the next 30 minutes in a flurry of excitement shooting more than a hundred images of rust and dust, wood and crevices. I was late for lunch but had made a decision: I would paint what really excited me, not what was expected of me or what everyone else was painting! I had felt that I was SUPPOSED to paint the mission, its buildings and surrounding landscape, but WHO exactly was telling me to do that? I felt an obligation to even you, my dear two or three readers (and a few more on Facebook), to show the finished paintings that I thought you expected to see. And you may well be expecting to see familiar images of missions and may be disappointed but I am learning to listen more to my own voice and quieting those outside voices of others. Although I loved the mission, I just did not feel excited to actually paint it in the traditional way and did not feel like I had anything new to say about it. Once I tuned in more about what really gets my mojo going (and for me that seems to be more abstract design and closely cropped, zoomed in images) I was on a roll!

I spent the afternoon creating three paintings in the courtyard in close proximity to the other painters. The dark windows against the light adobe walls had really captured my attention and I wanted to practice getting all those colors in that seemingly off-white wall down. I could finally see them, all the peaches, blues, pinks and yellows and I was itching to paint them! Part of me still felt that I owed an explanation to why I was painting just one window or just a small part of a wagon wheel, and sometimes I did say something to passersby, but after a while, I just let go off justifying myself to anyone. 

Here are the resulting paintings from that afternoon:

 Mission San Antonio Window I, 8x6"        

  Mission San Antonio Window II,6 x 8     

    Mission San Antonio Wagon Wheel, 8 x 6

I felt good about my productivity after such a sluggish start. I also felt that I learned a lot that day. I have painted adobe walls before but always struggled with the nuances of colors found in them. I really could not see all the colors I saw other artists put into their paintings of these types of walls. I don't know if it's just a matter of experience, of putting in the hours of direct observation and painting or the meditating I did in the chapel in the mornings while Gregorian Chants played in the background 24/7...but I was finally able to see what they see! AND I was able to put it down on paper! I knew I had to just be careful to use the same value, then any color would work, but I was thrilled to finally have reached another level that had been difficult for me.

The next morning we debated whether to paint more onsite at the mission or head back south and paint along the way. We chose the latter, because we wanted to make a stop at the Santa Barbara Museum of Art and a few galleries. We were exhausted and eager to get home (why is it that standing still at an easel can be so tiring??) but determined to get at least one more painting in. That afternoon we found Loon Point Beach in Summerland, lugged our gear from the parking lot to the beach and scoped out the location. Immediately I saw a scene with Eucalyptus trees, which I love, and was inspired, but once again, my shyness got the better of me. I decided to head down further along the beach where I saw less people. I dragged poor Anette along, over a long stretch of nothing but boulders and rocks until we gave up and headed back to our original point. Well, at least we got our exercise for the day! By the time we got started there was very little good light left and we literally raced through our set-up, composition sketch and painting, but oh, what fun I had! It forced me to very quickly lay down the important shapes and values without being able to get distracted by details. I didn't have time to take pictures of the sketch and underpainting but believe me it was very simple. I then threw on colors with abandon and was actually giddy with joy and excitement! I didn't even care about the couple looking over our shoulder for a few minutes, I was just having a blast! Below, you can see the finished piece, with VERY little touch up in the studio. I wanted to leave it as loose and fresh as it was at the scene. The colors in reality are actually a bit brighter then you see in the photo especially the lighter blues in the foreground bushes.

Loon Point Beach, 8 x 6

We arrived home spent but happy. In the end we did do a lot of painting, networked and made new friends, filled our creative wells by visiting exhibitions at a museum and galleries, had some much needed down time away from all other responsibilities at home, had some "car seat counseling" while driving and learned a WHOLE LOT about each other, but most of all I learned this:

Tune out everybody else's voice, let go of any expectations you think others have of you and just follow your bliss! We can paint a variety of subject matter if we want, but let's always bring ourselves to it. I love looking at traditional paintings, especially the many plein air paintings done by California Artists, but I'm not always happy with my own results. Whether that's a lack of skills (I'm sure that has something to do with it) or the feeling that I just have nothing new to add unless I focus on the things that truly appeal to me, and paint them MY way, who knows. For now, I'll keep painting en plein air as much as I can and I have faith that through those many hours of practicing my own style will emerge.

Here are some more photos from the mission along with a couple that got me so excited and will turn into small paintings later:

  Anette in front of the mission

   Artists painting in the courtyard   

     The mission halls at dusk  

 The Grist Mill   

   Our group of artists

Rusted tools and wagons scattered throughout:

Since moving out to California this past summer, I have been spending a lot more time painting "en plein air", a French term for painting outside on location. Tomorrow I have the great luxury of spending an entire weekend at a paint out/retreat sponsored by the California Art Club at the San Antonio de Padua Mission in Monterey County, CA. There will be about 50 other artists there and all meals are provided. All we have to do is wake up, show up at breakfast, take the packed lunch with us, go paint all day, head back for dinner and relax. Now that's heaven on earth!

So, why is painting en plein air such a big deal? No matter what an artist's subject matter or style, painting from life is vitally important to one's artistic growth because it hones our observational skills like nothing else will. It also adds a few more challenges to the painting process such as weather, bugs, time constraints (the light will change drastically in an hour or two depending on the time of day) and the distraction of curious onlookers not to mention the overwhelming smorgasbord of subject matter! I will address those difficulties of plein air painting in another post but wanted to share with you today some tips on the practical issues, especially for pastellists.

After several different set-ups and lots of trial and error I have come up with a pretty compact set up which all fits into one backpack so I can hike a bit to my chosen location. Having said that, the weight of the pack does make it a little more difficult to hike too far in, but until someone comes up with a great plastic painting box, I don't see it getting any better any time soon.

My current set up was purchased second hand from another artist for a great price. You can see all of my items laid out in this photo:

Top Row:

- Wallis sanded paper in a two ring binder from Dakota Art. Each page is separated by glassine, so you can leave the finished pieces right where they are. LOVE this!

- small scraps of Wallis paper that I tape next to my painting to test out colors before applying them to the painting surface

- view- and value finder (notice the view holes have convenient different dimensions)

- homemade viewfinder consisting of two separate L-shaped pieces of matboard (adjustable to any format you want)

I also forgot to add my camera to this picture which is my most used viewfinder. I find my composition with it and then look at the image on the screen. The small size tells me immediately if I like the composition and design of values and where I might want to make adjustments. If it looks interesting on that tiny screen it will make an interesting painting, no matter what the finished size will be.

- an old compact mirror. No, not for vanity reasons! I always check my work in a mirror whether in a big one in the studio or this one outdoors (I use both mirrors in the studio and ALWAYS catch inaccuracies)

Middle Row:

- sketchbook (two mechanical pencils are hooked into the rings on the side)

-paper towels (once a full roll in the kitchen or studio gets about two thirds finished, it goes into my backpack, so there is never a full roll taking up a bunch of space)

- trash bag (always leave a place the way you found it!)

- Wet wipes

- "Gloves in a bottle", a barrier cream to keep the pigments from being absorbed into the skin and making clean up later much easier

- Sunscreen

You might also want to add bug spray, but out here I've been fortunate enough not to need it, unlike in Texas!

- this is a little plastic tray that holds the pastels I pick out from the whole assortment and use for a particular painting

- scissors

- bungee cord (in case I need to fasten things down in a wind, hook my water bottle onto something, etc.)

- butterfly clips (to hold loose papers together, especially finished paintings)

- masking tape (to tape down the paper)

- tiny container which I fill with water from my drinking bottle to use for the watercolor underpainting I usually do

- small watercolor set

- pencil box with pencils, two brushes, kneaded eraser, conte crayons for sketching

Bottom Row:

- A variety of papers. Some are already taped to foamcore backings and can be put straight onto the easel box like a canvas, others are loose and I will tape them to the back of the Open Box M instead of holding them in place with the holders that are part of the box. Most are very small and square (I love that format), but I also have panoramic and rectangle formats. I choose the paper depending on the scene and know that I can always change it by taping off an area to create a different size. I'm trying my darndest to use standard sizes to make it easier for framing and selling, but sometimes I just don't plan well enough in advance. This bundle also has glassine or wax paper that I put in between finished paintings. Clipped together like this with the butterfly clips there is no movement and the pastels are just fine put back into the backpack.

- Open Box M. I have tried several other boxes and set ups for pastels but LOVE this one! It attaches easily onto a camera tripod and sets up in minutes. One side of the box holds the pastels (which I secure with a thin sheet of foam on top before closing it up), the other folds up and becomes the backing to which I secure the paper.

- bag that holds my camera tripod and umbrella

Not pictured:

- Camera

- water bottle (a trick I learned from my tri athlete boyfriend: tape a foot or two of duct tape around the middle of the water bottle. Not only does it make it easier to grip but in an emergency duct tape can come in handy for just about anything!)

- snack or lunch (I can't focus and am not much fun to be around when my blood sugar gets low so I always carry along some Mojo Energy bars)

Here is how it all looks nice and tidy in the backpack:

I do have trouble closing the very top of the pack because the painting box is square and backpacks narrow at the top. I keep looking everywhere but have yet to find a backpack that stays the same width on top as on the bottom without being huge! If you come across one, PLEASE let me know! I also need to buy some extenders to the fasteners that hold the tripod bag so I don't have to strain quite as much to get it closed. A trip to REI should solve that.

On the photo at top you can see what it looks like when I'm all set up. Notice the bag between the tripod legs. I will put my water bottle or some rocks into it to weigh it down and make it more stable and secure. Or if it's not windy at all, I'll rest my camera in it. You can also see my paper towels (I wipe each pastel on it as I use them), the little tray that holds my chosen colors (this happens to be a different one from the other picture) and the scrap paper taped to the side of my painting with the pastel test marks.

In case you're curious, I was painting at McWay Falls, in Big Sur, CA, in this photo.

I hope these tips might help someone else get going on plein air painting. Even with pastels, it does NOT require lugging around a whole bunch of paraphernalia to paint outdoors. The magic word of course is: simplify! Figure out in the studio what you actually REALLY need to create a painting, whittle it down to the essentials, pack smaller versions of those and head to the hills! Or mountains or beaches or city centers...

Now, that that's out of the way, I'll tackle the MUCH tougher subject of actually painting on location next time! I'm still working on figuring that out myself...Plus, I'll tell you all about the retreat, so stay tuned!