musings from the studio and beyond ~
dawn chandler’s reflections on art and life. . . .
07.23.2012 ~ sojourning artist, ii
Oils?
There’s something really cool about setting up your portable easel and paint box in the 150+year tradition of en plein air painters and becoming one with those master impressionists — as I’m doing in Gunnison Colorado in that photo to the right (Thank you Mr. Mayor of Gunnison for taking that photograph!)
BUT
Here’s why bringing oils is a Royal Pain:
— they dry slowly, especially in humid environments
— they are a mess to clean up, as they require solvents
— they are relatively heavy
— the portable easel/paint box is cumbersome to set up and haul around, especially on a bike or on foot.
Granted, there are some really cool products out there that can make all of the above easier, including agents to add to the paint so they’ll dry faster, newly fabricated oils that clean up with water, specially designed boxes for transporting wet paintings, and even more compact and lightweight paint boxes and easels.
Let’s face it though: If you don’t already have all of those groovy gadgets and supplies, amassing them for a trip can easily cost as much as the trip itself!
OILS: Not an option for me this summer.
No, for me oil painting while traveling is best reserved for road trips from home, when I can easily dump everything in the back of my car, without having to be concerned about weight and bulk and Homeland Security.
For travel by plane, my art supplies need to meet the following criteria:
— be compact and easy to transport (especially if I’m walking or on a bike)
— be lightweight
— be easy to clean up (with water, if anything)
— not be fragile
— not require shipping or special handling of materials and/or finished works
Acrylics?
I’ve been thinking about these a lot. Acrylics are the foundation of my mixed media collage paintings, since I can build upon them with layers of glue and paint (you can’t glue onto oil paint, but you can onto acrylic paint). The layering of colors en plein air could be cool and interesting.
BUT
— the tubes of colors are big and bulky and, en masse, relatively heavy.
— though they clean up in water, I usually have a sloppy mess in the palette that can be a hassle to dispose of; dumping this slop in a nature preserve isn’t an option, and carrying it out is a pain.
— preserving the wet paint in the palette could be problematic.
All in all, acrylics wouldn’t be convenient at all.
Hmmm….
Watercolors?
These are a real possibility. Their main benefit? They clean up easily with water. And you can get these nifty little travel watercolor sets with tiny “pans” of dried color and even a tiny little travel brush and water reservoir (mine made by Windsor Newton pictured below).
Perfect for small sketches!
This set up was ideal when I rode my bike across Mexico for a month and a half and space in my paniers was at an absolute premium.But if you want to work larger than 4″x6″ this set up is a bit limiting. And if you want more colors than the 10 or 12 “pans”, you’re out of luck.
Alternative: Bring a folding a palette and tubes of watercolor paints
BUT
— There’s the mess of the wet palette (especially if you bring a folding palette and paint tubes), which always seems to drip and dribble and merge colors when folded for transport.
— And you need to remember to carry water, and a water vessel of some sort — ideally two: one for clean water, and one for cleaning your brush.
— And then there’s the drying time, which can seem interminable in humid climates.
Granted, these aren’t huge issues. I’ve traveled frequently with watercolors in the little kit as well as via the folding palette and have had decent results with few headaches.
Still… I’m undecided.
06.28.2012 ~ sojourning artist, i
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| the fiountain, villa torlonia, frascati, italy ~ oil on canvas ~ by john singer sargent ~ c.1907 |
Like a lot of people I first start packing for any trip by making a list. Highlighted at the top of the list are The Essentials — those things that you simply can’t travel without. In my case these include my wallet, id, plane ticket, boarding passes, cell phone, and….art supplies.
Art supplies?
Essential?
Yes.
For the thought of sitting idle somewhere without some form of creative expression at my fingertips is anathema — and that’s putting mildly.**
So of those art supplies… What to bring?
Or the harder question: What not to bring?
With a studio brimming with supplies, it’s oh-so-easy and tempting to bring a plethora of materials — for of course you want to be sure that when the Muse visits, you’re well equipped to accommodate her with sufficient supplies and choices.
But No.
The reality is that having too many choices can too often be crippling. Too many temptations and you can’t make a decision about anything, never-mind having to deal with hauling all of that crap around.
No, I’d rather be decisive in advance and minimize the choices.
But before packing, it’s important to establish why I’m bringing art supplies in the first place. In my upcoming travels, my main goal is to relax, and fortunately for me, one way I relax is by sketching and painting (I’m lucky that that is also how I earn my living!). With these trips I’m not looking to complete finished “masterpieces” for the larger art market.
Rather, my intent is to engage in creative reconnaissance: Take in the colors and textures and shapes and atmosphere of the place and see what moves and inspires me. Experiment and play and try things I haven’t tried before. Look. Watch. Listen. Feel. Observe. Play.
And draw.
And paint.
And draw.
And paint.
So now….what to bring?
** I also consider a good book and letter-writing accoutrements to be Essential.
06.25.2012 ~ opening up in slickhorn canyon, utah
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| opening up in slickhorn canyon, utah ~ oil and mixed media on panel ~ by dawn chandler ~ copyright 2012 dawn chandler |
I just love the surprise of greenery in the bottom of these canyons. The colonies of cottonwoods are such inviting, verdant oases in this parched landscape. I could hole up forever in the cool shadows of those trees.
As with the other panels in this series, this one started with my free-write scribing on the undersurface with a dip pen. This time though I added a little pen and ink sketch in the upper corner as I considered the composition of the piece. I later went in with ink washes and blocked out the main compositional elements, before commencing to paint:
06.14.2012 ~ santa fe cicadas
They arrived a few weeks ago, burrowing out of their decade-long home in the earth so as to scale the nearest evergreen and glue themselves to the windy limbs. There, in sunlight and moonlight, they break free of their armor and emerge winged, filling the sky with their song.
At 7:30 each morning is when they break into song at my house. That’s when the sun fully peaks over the eastern mesas and begins to build momentum across the morning.
Imagine the sound of a casting fly reel. Now multiply that sound by the thousands, and that’s what it sounds like around here when the sun is out.
In the evening — when the sun is low — the cicada song becomes a clicking sound. [Really, the poets need to find a descriptor other than “castanets” to describe the sound of that clicking. But for now it’s the best my limited poetic mind can muster.]
I guess it’s not really a “song” we’re hearing, since these sounds don’t come from the mouth of these creatures, but rather from the abdomen. At least that’s what the Wiki tells me. Well, whether it’s a vocal song or a belly song makes no difference to me; I remain fully entranced.
Not only entranced, but incredulous that these little guys have crawled out of this hard-packed earth from depths as deep as 8 feet. How do they do it?! And to think that when they went into the ground as little grubs some 10 – 17 years ago, my house wasn’t even here!
There’s rich mythology around cicadas, and I can understand why: Their life underground as a grub is epically long, while their post-moulting life in the trees and sky is all too short (just a few weeks). Is it any wonder that they’ve come to symbolize reincarnation and insouciance in some cultures? I like that symbolism. They all will die in a few weeks, but I have a feeling they’re going to be returning again soon, in my studio.
06.06.2012 ~ autumn on the edge of baldy
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| autumn on the edge of baldy ~ by dawn chandler ~ oil and mixed media on panel ~ 12 x 24 inches ~ copyright dawn chandler 2012 |
Autumn on the edge….. Okay, so in early June perhaps no one is thinking of Autumn. But when I came across a photo of the Sangre de Cristos from the edge of Philmont’s Baldy Mountain, something pulled me in.
This just may be my favorite of these new panoramic paintings. I’m not sure why….but something about it feels bolder than the others. Really, the composition is simpler — there’s really not a whole lot going on. But that sharp diagonal thrust from upper right to lower left adds dynamism. Break it down to it’s barest elements, and the simplicity of the composition becomes almost abstract. The palette, too, is minimal — yet contrasting, further energizing and emboldening the scene.
A few close ups:
Like the others, this one started with a rough under-painting followed by a layer of scribing (below). Look carefully under the gold paint (above, lower left) and you can just barely make out some of my writing.
