musings from the studio and beyond ~
dawn chandler’s reflections on art and life. . . .
the very large triptych, part 6
The most dreaded phase of this whole Very Large Triptych project involved zero skill or creativity. It required planning, patience, hefting and heaving. That dreaded phase? Swapping my living room with my studio.
Why bother?
I needed to be able to step away from the canvases while painting so that I could take in the full panorama. My studio just didn’t have enough space. Despite the utter pain-in-the-assedness of reconfiguring my entire home — hauling trunks, taborets, lamps, tables, shelves, chairs, bins of paints, and books and books and books and books — it was essential that I do so. That process began in late July.
In August two huge new easels arrived [“some assembly required” READ: complete assembly required] as well as a shipment of 8′ x 4′ sheets of cardboard for the floor.
Easels? Why not just hang the canvases on the wall?
Because I wanted to be able to turn away the paintings easily [“easel-y” ? ]. Much as stepping back from the canvases is important, so is taking breaks from looking at them. Also, I didn’t want anyone else to see the Very Large Triptych while I was working on it. Although I’m confident in my painting abilities, with such a new, huge and challenging project, the slightest eyebrow raise from the wrong person might cause me to second guess myself, and I wasn’t taking any chances.
A few days later the canvases arrived. WOW! They were gorgeous!
A blank canvas can be damned intimidating, and here I had three of the largest, most pristine and expensive canvases I’d ever painted on. That blindingly white, intimidating pristine surface had to go. I grabbed a large piece of graphite and wrote in huge sweeping cursive across the canvases statements of affirmation: “I am painting a beautiful New Mexico landscape!” “Joy!” “This painting radiates peace!” It may sound hokey, even — GASP!— WOO-WOO, but why the hell not? I wanted the very foundation of this painting to be rooted in positivity.
Next I sketched in the basic shapes of the landscape: foreground trees, mountains, clouds overhead.
Finally, I was ready to begin painting the Very Large Triptych.
Well… no — not quite. First I needed to wake-up my Muse. I pulled out my watercolors and cut several panels of Multimedia Artboard., then put on my headphones. Cued up was a very special audiobook that I knew would speak directly to my Muse: The Creative Act, written and read by Rick Rubin [O Wise One]. For me, Rick’s sonorous Buddha-like voice and wholly inspiring message is like an IV drip of motivation. During those first couple weeks that I worked on the Very Large Triptych, I warmed up with watercolors and the voice of O Wise One.
Warm-up complete, now it was time to get down and dirty with my oil paints. Large brushes were needed, and knew just where to find them. I opened a drawer in my taboret, and there they were — my huge old brushes from grad school. Pride rushed over me as I admired how well kept they were; it had been decades since I last used them.
When it comes to painting traditional/representational landscape in oils, I more or less follow Kevin McPherson’s approach: Figure out your darkest darks, and block them in boldly and simply. The darkest darks were the foreground trees, so I started there. Fortunately, as I created the study panels in Phase Two, I had made detailed color notes and swatches, and referred to these now to figure out the foreground colors:
Next came the mountains.
Because my painting style is quite loose, I don’t usually get too caught up in getting the silhouette of a mountain range exact. But, since I was commissioned to paint a specific view, I felt it important to depict the lay of the mountains as accurately as possible — hence the numbering of the peaks:
Now to begin the sky.
This is part six of a several part series:
the very large triptych, part one
the very large triptych, part two
the very large triptych, part three
the very large triptych, part four
the very large triptych, part five
Thanks for finding your way here and for reading my musings. If you think others might appreciate them, feel free to share this post. If you’d like to read more of my musings please consider subscribing to this, my blog.
Meanwhile, find more of my stories, insights and art here on my website www.taosdawn.com. Shop my art via my Etsy shop. And please consider joining me for TuesdayDawnings, my weekly deep breath of uplift, insight, contemplation & creativity. Find other ways to keep tabs on me via my connect page.
Stay safe. Be kind. Notice what you notice.
~ Dawn Chandler
Painting, writing, photographing, hiking, noticing and breathing deeply in Santa Fe, New Mexico.
Free from social media since 2020
the very large triptych, part 5
I need to go! I apologized to my hosts. The sky is going to be incredible — I HAVE to photograph it!
That was Sunday, July 2nd, and I couldn’t believe I was bowing out early from a fun party filled with old friends I’d not seen in a long time. But the sky was calling!
I rushed out to RAS’ place, only to find their driveway filled with cars. I knew RAS was in Santa Fe this week, but hadn’t realized they were having a party this evening. They had assured me all along, “Come out whenever you want — you don’t need to alert us before hand!” Yet this evening I hesitated. I didn’t want to crash their party. But DAMN! The sky was incredible!
Laughter and music emanated from inside. I knocked on the door, waited a few minutes, then sheepishly let myself in.
Three hours later, with a belly full of paella and key lime pie and my head spinning with festivity, I was back home in my pajamas. As I stared into the computer screen, my camera downloaded a near endless stream of photos of the evening’s radiant sky.
I returned to RAS’ roof just once more: to capture coral sunrise clouds over the Sangre de Cristos and billowy white mid-morning clouds over the Jemez.. Then I was done: I had all the photos I needed.
Now came the hard part: Culling hundreds of photos to a dozen of the very best.
After many hours this, too, was done.
I was now ready to begin the oil studies.
In June I had begun the preparation of the study panels. Were the dimensions of the Very Large Triptych (and in turn the studies) more traditional in scale, I would have used Ampersand panels. However since the dimensions were unusual, I had to make my own panels. I chose birch plywood because it is strong, durable and smooth — nothing like your typical plywood. Since it’s raw wood though, it requires some treatment before paintin: First a couple of layers of acrylic medium to seal the wood, followed by several layers of gesso to create a smooth white ground. By the time I made my final excursion to the roof in mid-July, the panels were ready.
But before I began the studies, I wanted to do a couple of test studies — “study studies,” if you will.
Test #1: See how the rooftop view translates in oil. I bought a sweet little linen-covered panel and tested painting in oil a scene from one of my first excursions out there:
Test #2: See what it feels like to paint oil on my new birch plywood panels. I treated a small scrap panel with gel medium and gesso and knocked out a quick little painting of an early view:
Satisfied with my tests, I was ready to dive into the official oil studies. Proportionate to the overall Very Large Triptych, each measured 11″ x 40.” I began with an April sunset, and continued through spring into summer, wrapping up with mid-July.
All in all I painted seven studies:
On August 31 I brought the panels out to RAS’ Las Campanas home. I lined them up in the entry way, and we slowly walked the length of the hallway, considering each study.
After some discussion, RAS narrowed it down to two, and finally down to one — The One I would transform into the Very Large Triptych.
Which one would you choose?
This is part five of a several part series:
the very large triptych, part one
the very large triptych, part two
the very large triptych, part three
the very large triptych, part four
Thanks for finding your way here and for reading my musings. If you think others might appreciate them, feel free to share this post. If you’d like to read more of my musings please consider subscribing to this, my blog.
Meanwhile, find more of my stories, insights and art here on my website www.taosdawn.com. Shop my art via my Etsy shop. And please consider joining me for TuesdayDawnings, my weekly deep breath of uplift, insight, contemplation & creativity. Find other ways to keep tabs on me via my connect page.
Stay safe. Be kind. Notice what you notice.
~ Dawn Chandler
Painting, writing, photographing, hiking, noticing and breathing deeply in Santa Fe, New Mexico.
Free from social media since 2020
the very large triptych, part 4
I was worried about clouds: I needed clouds to pull off the Very Large Triptych.
But clouds were no guarantee. Just the year before, the only clouds over New Mexico from April to June were smoke clouds. And the year before that, our traditional summer rains never developed. I’ve lived in New Mexico for 30 years.* When I think of beautiful Land of Enchantment clouds and skies, I think of summer. True, we get colorful skies throughout the year. But when I think magnificent Land of Enchantment cloud formations, I think summertime. I don’t think of spring.
So you better believe it was a powerful good omen when, on April 26 — the day RAS and I were to sign our Very Large Triptych commission agreement — the sky filled with gorgeous clouds.** And when a rare spring rainbow appeared later that day? Talk about auspicious!
From late April through mid-July I made over a dozen trips to RAS’s roof. Come many a late afternoon, if I saw clouds developing, I’d throw together a picnic supper, grab my camera, and drive out there to sit on the roof.
Sometimes the clouds proved disappointing. Yet it was still a joy to sit out there under the New Mexico sky with nothing to do but gaze. Ravens and crows cawed all around me. Several resident ducks flapped and swam in a nearby pond. Somewhere out there was a Pied-billed Grebe.
Most of my excursions were in the evening. Twice though I drove out for sunrise. What a delight to welcome the day with a thermos of tea in one hand, my camera in the other.
One evening stands out: The night I was dive-bombed by marauding nighthawks. Swooping in graceful arcs against a dramatic sunset sky, it was all I could do to try to capture those “bullbats” with my camera. Alas, my camera skills are poor, but those aerobatic soarers are forever etched in my mind’s eye.
Firmly in Phase One of the project, my focus — as planned — was on photography. Yet I was itching to wet a brush. So I continued the tradition I’d begun on April 1 at the Caja. Take photos in the evening, then follow-up by jotting notes and painting watercolors in my triptych journal:
To further acquaint my Muse with composing landscape in a very W I D E horizontal format, I played around with painting small (5″ x 20″) and quick study landscapes. These did in acrylic on Multimedia ArtBoard, proportionate to the overall Very Large Triptych:
Meanwhile I was busy gauging and ordering supplies: Quantities of oil paint, two additional easels, and three top-of-the-line custom canvases. After contemplating my space for several months, I realized that the best space in my home to paint the Very Large Triptych was my living room. It simply has better light and more space (at least it would once I moved most of its furnishings into my studio…). Huge sheets of cardboard and rolls of duct tape were added to my shopping list, so as to protect the living room floor.
Now was the time, too, to prep panels for Phase Two (creating oil studies based on the photos). Fortunately My Good Man (a soon to be world class master woodworker) had recently graduated from an Intro to Woodworking class and had access to power tools. I told him what I needed and a few days later he, like the prince that he is, delivered a load of beautiful clean cut boards to me.
*Wow! Has it really been that long?!
** Incredibly we had lots and lots of clouds last spring, for 2023 was one of the wettest springs in memory. Unfortunately, it was followed by one of the driest summers in memory: monsoon season — which usually lasts several weeks — lasted exactly one day in my neighborhood (a Tuesday).
This is part four of a several part series:
the very large triptych, part one
the very large triptych, part two
the very large triptych, part three
the very large triptych, part four
Thanks for finding your way here and for reading my musings. If you think others might appreciate them, feel free to share this post. If you’d like to read more of my musings please consider subscribing to this, my blog.
Meanwhile, find more of my stories, insights and art here on my website www.taosdawn.com. Shop my art via my Etsy shop. And please consider joining me for TuesdayDawnings, my weekly deep breath of uplift, insight, contemplation & creativity. Find other ways to keep tabs on me via my connect page.
Stay safe. Be kind. Notice what you notice.
~ Dawn Chandler
Painting, writing, photographing, hiking, noticing and breathing deeply in Santa Fe, New Mexico.
Free from social media since 2020.
the very large triptych, part 3
On April first 2023 I began my immersion into the panoramic landscape. RAS would be back in Santa Fe later in the month, when we’d sign an agreement for the very large triptych commission. Although they graciously invited me to go out to their place whenever I wanted, I was reluctant to go on their property until we had a signed agreement. Yet I was eager to acquaint myself more deeply with the land and sky I’d be painting. So I ventured out as close as I could get: I went into the Caja.
When you look west from Santa Fe to the Jemez Mountains and Los Alamos, you gaze across the vast pinon- and juniper-dotted high desert of the Caja del Rio. I’ve written about this sacred, vital, and beloved land in my blog post history and mystery in the new mexico landscape. The main access point to the Caja from Santa Fe involves driving through Las Campanas to the long washboarded dirt Old Buckman Road. Late in the day, and especially on weekends, the road becomes a band of dust as pickup trucks loaded with ATVs speed on their way to the trails honey-combing the hills of the Caja.
In early spring there wasn’t much color to the earth and sky out there, nor were there interesting clouds. Yet it was still satisfying to be out there among pinon and juniper and ravens under the big blue dome.
And, as I discovered on my several excursions in early April, as nightfall approaches and the motorized traffic and dust settle down, if you’re paying attention, enchantment emerges…
Cervus canadensis: Elk, also known as “wapiti,” which, I just learned from professor Wiki, come from the Shawnee and Cree word for “white rump.”
After each excursion I returned home to review my photos and make notes and watercolors in my VLT journal….
This is part three of a several part series:
the very large triptych, part one
the very large triptych, part two
the very large triptych, part three
the very large triptych, part four
Thanks for finding your way here and for reading my musings. If you think others might appreciate them, feel free to share this post. If you’d like to read more of my musings please consider subscribing to this, my blog.
Meanwhile, find more of my stories, insights and art here on my website www.taosdawn.com. Shop my art via my Etsy shop. And please consider joining me for TuesdayDawnings, my weekly deep breath of uplift, insight, contemplation & creativity. Find other ways to keep tabs on me via my connect page.
Stay safe. Be kind. Notice what you notice.
~ Dawn Chandler
Painting, writing, photographing, hiking, noticing and breathing deeply in Santa Fe, New Mexico.
Free from social media since 2020
the very large triptych, part 2
On March 1st, 2023 our schedules finally aligned so that we could all meet in person at RAS’ Las Campanas home. From the moment I met them, RAS’ enthusiasm and appreciation for my art and me made me feel like a rock star.
After chatting for a bit and admiring their beautiful art collection, I asked to see the view they wanted painted.
From their rooftop deck are panoramic vistas of the Jemez to the west and Sangre de Cristos to the east. In late winter all the landscape — earth and sky, summits and sage — blended into each other in drab shades of khaki green, tan and blue-grey. But I could just imagine how spectacular and vibrant the views were going to be come summertime rain.
Initially RAS had in mind a dramatic sunset view for the triptych, but now they weren’t so sure — colorful sunrise over the Sangres? Dramatic sunset over the Jemez? Midday big blue sky and puffy white clouds? “We’re looking to you to guide us,” they said to me.
Back inside, TAC and I double-checked the measurements of the wall. I then considered the layout and decor of the living room, and shared my thoughts:
I suggest reducing the scale of the overall triptych, because I think 48″ x 60″ — which will make the whole thing 4′ x 15′ — may overwhelm the wall. I’d scale it down a little bit so that there’s white space all around to “frame” it, and give it some breathing room.
In terms of the sky, clouds definitely make for a more interesting painting. But I would avoid anything overly dramatic. A really intensely colored sunset, say, with lots of bright oranges and reds, might feel overpowering. Plus, this room already has a lot of warm colors. It might be nice for the triptych to have some cooler colors. So, for instance, a late afternoon scene, when the clouds are building in shades of purple-blue, but there’s still lots of blue sky peeking through.
TAC echoed these points, and RAS agreed.
“That all sounds good. We’re in no hurry — we want it done right — but just general, how long do you think it will take?” RAS asked.
The triptych would be going on the wall above the recessed shelves, replacing the taxidermic heads.
Basically I see this project having three components or phases: The first phase I’ll call “Discovery,” which will involve photography: Me coming out here and taking photos from your deck. This spring I’ll be on high alert to the sky, and whenever it looks like we’re going to have good cloud action, I’ll drive out here to take photos. I’m guessing I’d make a dozen or so trips out here.
The thing to keep in mind is that spring clouds can be pretty rare out here. Our best clouds usually come in summer, during the monsoons. Hopefully we’ll get good clouds this spring, but we’ll just have to wait and see.
Phase Two I’ll call ‘Exploration.’ This is when I’ll narrow down the photos to maybe a dozen of the very best. From those I’ll make several small oil painting studies to the scale of the overall triptych. Once the studies are complete, I’ll share them with you. Ideally there will be one that really speaks to you, and that’s the one that I’ll enlarge into the triptych. Phase Three is painting the triptych.
The photography phase will likely take the longest, since it depends on the weather. If I start coming out here in April, I’d anticipate taking photos through June or July — so three to four months for photography. Creating the studies will take probably four to six weeks, depending on how many I paint. Painting the overall triptych should go relatively quickly — maybe two to three months.
So… I’m guessing maybe by Christmas it’ll be done? I can’t guarantee that, but, if all goes as hoped for, I think that’s a reasonable date to aim for.
“That would be just great — but again, there’s no rush, we want it done right!”
After more conversation fueled by delicious eats, we bade our adieus with hugs all around.
I left feeling on Cloud Nine! and drove home with my head in the clouds.
The next day I ordered a new camera.
This is part two of a several part series:
the very large triptych, part one
the very large triptych, part two
the very large triptych, part three
the very large triptych, part four
Thanks for finding your way here and for reading my musings. If you think others might appreciate them, feel free to share this post. If you’d like to read more of my musings please consider subscribing to this, my blog.
Meanwhile, find more of my stories, insights and art here on my website www.taosdawn.com. Shop my art via my Etsy shop. And please consider joining me for TuesdayDawnings, my weekly deep breath of uplift, insight, contemplation & creativity. Find other ways to keep tabs on me via my connect page.
Stay safe. Be kind. Notice what you notice.
~ Dawn Chandler
Painting, writing, photographing, hiking, noticing and breathing deeply in Santa Fe, New Mexico.
Free from social media since 2020