Austin, The Last Stop

An oil sketch of cypress trees at Lake Bisteneau
© Theresa Grillo Laird

I'd never been on a month long painting road trip, so I left Florida with high expectations. Traveling from place to place while stopping to paint was even more fun than I anticipated. Despite some less than ideal weather, I painted in landscapes that I was seeing for the first time, seeing fresh with painter's eyes.
After staying at Lake Bisteneau in Louisiana and three different locations in Arkansas, my husband Pete and I turned west. The plan was to stop in Austin, and Perdenales State Park before continuing on to New Mexico.

Austin Wildflowers  ©Theresa Grillo Laird
16x20 oil

The trip had been full of surprises and the mid June heat in Texas was one of them. I had only seen Austin in the fall and was not prepared for heat that was somehow less bearable than in a Pensacola summer. Even with an air conditioned travel trailer, it was too hot to sleep at night. Austin became our last stop.
In Autumn, I'd been drawn to the fields of gold grass with dark green trees standing like sentinels over a molten sea. Now in late spring, these same fields were green and filled with every kind of wildflower imaginable. Beautiful!

In Austin my road trip ended but I can't wait for the next one!

Painting on the White River

On the White River

My favorite place to paint while I was in Arkansas, was at the White River tailwaters near Beaver Dam. The river is icy cold because it's flowing from the bottom of a very deep dammed lake. It's a popular trout fishing spot for that reason.The river level changes during the day with the release of water from the dam upstream. Fishermen arrive early, wearing waders despite the 95 degree heat, and pack up when the horn sounds signalling the release of water. Each day when they left, I had the river almost completely to myself. I loved the solitude and fell easily into the rhythm of painting while absorbed in the stillness of the trees and the gentle rippling of the river.

On my first day, I set up on the edge of the river and focused on the opposite bank. The river was low enough to see part of the rocky bottom. I was about a half hour into my work when the warning horn sounded. At first there was little change in the river. But gradually a sound like rapids could be heard and the current became noticeably faster. I had to paint faster too because the rocks along the bank I was painting were getting covered by water. I included the rising water in the painting. 

Water Rising 9x12 oil
©T Grillo Laird

I had such a good painting day that I returned the next day. The sky filled with clouds as I set up. I wondered if the nearly constant rain was what caused the river and surrounding woodland and even the humid air to seem infused with blue and green color.

Choosing from half a dozen possible painting subjects, I turned my easel towards the bluffs rising high above the river. I set up a 16x20 panel and began to work. My palette for both days was a range of greens, blues and browns mixed from 3 primary colors.
Once again the warning horn sounded at about 12 noon and the fishermen packed up for the day. I wasn't concerned about the rising water since I'd seen the extent of it the day before, and I had set up on a rise on the riverbank.

getting started

Soon the horn sounded again. Fifteen minutes later it sounded for a third time.My husband Pete and I looked at each other with the same question.Three horns! Does that mean it's time to build an ark? I kept working.

You can see little ripples in the water as the river started to rise.

Too  soon I heard the rustle of quickening water.I kept an eye on the river to my right as the rustle turned into a steady rush. My husband started moving excess equipment to higher ground. The river had risen less than 2 feet the day before so even if it rose higher than that, I felt I'd put enough room between me and the river's edge.
I was so busy congratulating myself for timing things right as I painted,- the river was now about a foot away- that I didn't even think to look to my left until Pete called out a warning. The water had snaked around to the left and I was now standing on a little island surrounded by an icy moat. I wasn't finished painting but the water was so close that I just started tossing everything up on the bank. I watched my water thermos float away as I hauled my easel towards the bank. I finished packing up from a high spot in the woods and assessed the day's work. Though unfinished, the canvas still gives me enough information to paint a larger studio version.

as finished as I was going to get for the day

 If I return to the area around Eureka Springs, I'll surely paint at this spot again. 

Plein Air Large

The work in progress leaning against my car.

Near a fishing pier at the western tip of Santa Rosa Island and bordering the Gulf of Mexico, is a serene little "lake" of seawater enclosed by the surrounding beach. Before the Hurricane 10 years ago, it was a little shaded oasis surrounded by trees where beach goers could go to escape the heat and sun of the open beach. The trees are gone now but the long sweeping lines of the dunes gives it still a sense of calm and serenity. This is the spot I chose to try a very large plein air painting. 

I chose a 24x48 inch canvas and covered the back with brown paper to keep the sunlight out.The canvas size size was partly an experiment to see if anything good can come out of working so large the field. But it was also what the long lines of the scene seemed to call for. I didn't bother with an umbrella. I knew it would be more of a distraction covering only part of the canvas, than a help. I set up on a clear afternoon, angled my canvas to catch the smallest possible amount of wind, and waited for the late day light. Near sundown, the white sand of the Florida Gulf Coast lights up with all the colors of the late day sky and the dunes take on beautiful vivid blue and violet shadow shapes, but effect doesn't last long.

On my first day out, I was content to get the main shapes, values and approximate colors down. When the sun went down I packed up and waited for another day with similar conditions.

at the end of day one

On day two I set up at the same spot on top of a wall. For the sake of accuracy, the wall I'm on doesn't go around the whole fort but encloses some batteries facing the Gulf of Mexico. 

Here's the view I was painting.

I still need another session in the field with this canvas to gather some more information. At that point I'll decide whether to call it done or give it more time in the studio.

When I next blog about this painting, I'll  talk about the palette of colors I used and I'll share my conclusions about working this large en plein air. 

California Dreaming

Evening Meditation - Oil on Canvas Panel - 11x 20
© T Grillo Laird 2014

As much as I love My Florida Gulf Coast home with it's white sand beaches and emerald water, every part of my artist's soul longs for the California Coast. From the first time I saw the coastal region between San Luis Obispo and Monterey just four years ago, I knew I'd found the place I belong. But I'm not  in my twenties anymore and family obligations have piled on together with the years. I can't in good conscience walk away from everyone and do as I please as I might have done not too long ago. So each time I have the opportunity to travel to the coast, I make the most of it. There many painting spots I've set aside for future trips and some that I've managed to make it to. This little spot is one of those.

My view

When I set out from Templeton in mid afternoon, it was 94 degrees. A 20 minute drive over the mountains and through the pass brings you to the coast. I couldn't believe the temperature change at the coast. It was in the mid fifties!
I love the drive along Highway One from Cayucos to just south of Ragged Point. There are plenty of places to pull over to walk along the coast or enjoy the view from a high point. I like this spot near San Simeon because a short climb down the rock face brings you to a narrow rock strewn beach between the water's edge and the steep rock face.Since most people prefer the view from the parking lot above, you can work in relative privacy tucked up against the rock face. It's a peaceful spot.

I had already climbed back up with my painting and some gear when I thought to stop and take this shot. The light was fast disappearing.

I started Evening Meditation on site a little more than a year ago. At that time I was still unable to complete a painting on site before the light changed. I'm happy to say that I've gained that skill since, so I'm really looking forward to my next trip.

After finishing the improvements on my studio this month, I was able to organize my unfinished pieces. I'll be going through them one by one and finishing the promising ones. I'm not worried about ruining these half finished pieces, which gives me a real sense of freedom to see what I can turn them into.  

Looking for Heights

On the Buffalo River Trail

While camping in the Ozarks last month, I took advantage of a couple of sunny hours to hike through Boxley Canyon in Lost Valley. Is Lost Valley really lost? Well, if we had blinked, we'd have driven right past it, but was worth the stop. Lost Valley is a small area of farms tucked between hillsides off the beaten trail. The land owners, some who have been there for generations, have banded together and agreed to set the whole land mass aside, free from development, so everyone can see what the area looked like when it was first settled. Settlers cabins and remains of homesteads are there for the curious to explore.

Boxley Canyon Trail in Lost Valley is a path that winds around boulders, caves and waterfalls to a high point called Eagle Falls that emerge from a cliff top cave. Huge boulders are strewn about everywhere, piled at odd angles by gravity and the force of rushing water. Stone steps set in place to cross the steep terrain, reminded me of Rivendell of the Tolkien movies. I half expected to see Gandalf or the Lady of the Wood appear from around a bend!

Hungering still to experience more heights that I so miss living in Florida, we headed to the Buffalo River for a second hike that afternoon. I'll admit I had an ulterior motive for dragging my walk-weary husband on yet another climb. I was looking for a good access point to paint the famed bluffs above the Buffalo River.

The trail climbed high above the river. We had barely started the four mile hike when the rain that was such a constant factor throughout the trip, began again. At first, the thick overhead canopy kept most of the rain off of us, but within an hour, even this dense rooftop couldn't keep the water out.
Rain and all, I thought it was magical walk! Though it was dark and close under the trees, an ethereal deep gold light filled the forest. Thunder boomed overhead and fog drifted below us. There was just enough light to see a faint shadow cast by our walking sticks. The soft sound of creeks and waterfalls running between granite pillars, mingled with the sound of rain dripping through the leaves overhead. We walked along in the semi darkness bathed in the golden glow and listened to the absence of any sound of man.

My iPhone wasn't up to the task of capturing the unusual light. On the other side of these rocks is a sheer drop down to the Buffalo River.

As we neared the top of the mountain, the branches overhead could no longer contain the volume of water that was falling from the skies. Reluctantly we turned back down the trail. 

I never did find a view open enough to set up my easel. But I gathered impressions that will long stay in my mind's eye and no doubt find their way one painting or another.

To the Ozarks!

My favorite part of my recent road trip was the 10 days or so that we spent in the Ozarks, camped close to the War Eagle Creek. The campground itself was set low in a hollow below the roadway. There was no phone or internet service within camp, but a short drive up to the roadway brought us into phone range and to one end of the War Eagle Trail.

The part of the trail I was interested in, descended down a steep rocky path along bluffs high above the creek. From a vantage point above the creek, I had a view in both directions of the creek and rolling farmland that bordered it.

Parts of the trail were so close to the edge, that a safety barrier had been built to hang on to while navigating the slippery ledge.

I set my gear up on a wide bluff, happy to be outdoors in such a gorgeous spot. The day was overcast but bright and the colors of the trees along the bank and the reflections in the water were various shades of soft green and grey. Below me, someone glided by quietly in a canoe. Ahead of me was ridge after ridge of mountains disappearing into the distance. Swallows darted in and out of bluff side nests just below me. I felt like I was floating, suspended mid air in the silence I was part of.

About an hour into the painting, the sky began to darken. I kept painting hoping the clouds would pass. Soon the reflections in the water started to blur and the trees lost all contrast. I heard rain drops on the umbrella I had set up to shield my canvas from too much light. Before I could decide whether to go or stay, it started pouring as dense and drenching a rain as any I've seen in Florida. Rivers of rain washed forest debris off the bluffs and filled the drawer of my easel and my open knapsack. Water and oil paint mixed in an unholy union running off my palette. I could have wrung out my roll of paper towels.

I'm not proud to admit that my serene mood wore thin thin as I struggled in water weighted jeans to haul my soggy gear back up the trail. Determined to beat the obstacles, I returned the next day dressed in shorts and outfitted with a poncho and a big plastic tablecloth to cover my set- up in a down pour. I also suspended all my extra gear from my french easel, with bungee cords. It did rain again that day, and almost every day for the next two weeks. The rain eventually drove me out of Arkansas to Texas, but not before I had done a few more paintings and hiked some more beautiful trails.

Bluffs Above War Eagle Creek - 16x20 oil

  

Painting and Camping, a Perfect Road trip!

I'm just back from a month long road trip through 5 State parks in Arkansas and Texas. I faithfully wrote my blog posts along the way only to discover that most parks have no internet service and sometimes no phone service. Internet service was occasionally and  sporadically available from some location away from the campsites, but frankly, I found it refreshing to"un-plug".

On one of the many hiking trails in the Ozarks

 My days were filled late into evening with hiking, sight-seeing and painting. There was barely time each evening to cook a meal in the comfort of my travel trailer before falling into bed exhausted but happy. I even got used to the almost daily rain until a severe storm knocked a lot of  trees down. That was a bit scary and with no end in sight, I high-tailed it off that mountain top.

Now that I'm back in Florida, I'll share in my next few posts some of the highlights of my trip.

For about 10 days, I camped with my husband along War Eagle Creek in the Ozarks. This was base camp for some of the best hiking and painting on the trip. Initially I was very unprepared for the heavy rain, but as the locals told me, be thankful for the rainy season because when it ends, it becomes blistering hot! I can believe it. Despite being in the mountains, it was as hot as my Pensacola home.

Dang! Rained out halfway through!

On one of these rainy days, we drove out of the weather to Bentonville to see the Crystal Bridges Museum of Art. What a little gem of a museum! Their collection of American Art is impressive. The realist 19th century landscape painters of the Hudson River School and Luminist type styles, are especially well represented. They also had an exhibit going on called A Taste For Modernism of pieces from the William S. Paley collection usually housed at the Museum of Modern Art in NYC.

 I wondered why it was called crystal bridges until I saw the amazing architecture. The museum is made up of galleries ,"bridges", spanning a large pond fed by a natural spring on the grounds. The grounds themselves are a work of art with miles of manicured hiking trails over waterways and through dogwoods. Small pavilions echo the architecture. A Frank Lloyd Wright house is in the process of being moved to the grounds. There wasn't enough time to fully explore the grounds as well as the museum. Allow lots of time if you go. Here are a few pieces from the many I enjoyed.

This painting of the artist's studio caught my eye. It reminded me of my first NYC apartment in the West Village.

How's this for believable water and luminous light!

This one was a surprise! It's an art school assignment of Andy Warhol's. The assignment was to draw heads and hands.

Water Water Everywhere

We've had a lot of rain in our little corner of the map lately. Seventeen inches a couple of weeks ago. In Pensacola on the other side of the bridge, there was even more. Between the hurricane 10 years ago, the ice storm last winter and the unexpected overnight deluge on April 30th, we've had three "storms of the century" in the past ten years.

As is always the case, there is beauty still amid the destruction. I'm reminded of living in a FEMA trailer after the hurricane. I looked around at the endless piles of debris that had sunflowers sprouting around them, and thought how remarkable it was to see the hurricane-stripped trees setting out new blossoms a half a year off their normal schedule. 

Though impressionist paintings of water usually bring Monet to mind, Alfred Sisley  painted water that shimmered with life and movement. This is his painting of Port Marly after a flood. He painted several views of the town in flood water in the days it took for the water to recede.

And a painting of his with water in calm conditions.

Flood water or not, Pensacola is the ideal place for a painter to study water,surrounded as we are with bays, the Gulf, rivers and bayous that all look different from day to day under different light and weather conditions. I didn't realize how influenced by my surrounding I am, until an art patron pointed out that almost all of my paintings have water in them. 

True Blue - sold

Hills Over the Bayou - 16x20 oil on linen
click here to purchase

Silver Dawn -  18x24 oil on canvas
click here to purchase

Do You Paint With Greys?

winter on the Florida Gulf Coast

An artist friend of mine had the good fortune to attend a Scott Christensen workshop. She showed me the set of eight greys that he uses to block in his values and adjust his colors. I knew from Christensen's website that these greys were all mixed from  three primary colors.

 I put a dab of all eight colors on a piece of canvas and spread a bit of it out thin to examine each color's transparency. To a small amount of each grey, I added white because it's often impossible otherwise to determine how much of what color goes into a color mixture. This is especially true of a dark mixture.
I had previously contacted Scott to inquire which version of the three primaries are used to mix these greys. His studio graciously emailed me back that Ultramarine Blue, Permanent Red and Cadmium Lemon were his chosen primaries. I was skeptical that eight so different greys could be mixed from these three primaries but sure enough, they can.

So, what did I find from working with a palette of the greys and the three primaries?
   _ Resulting color was very natural. The colors looked exactly like they do in nature.
   _A cohesive color scheme was easy to attain.
   _Blocking in the composition's big value shapes using the greys made it easier to quickly develop the painting which is definitely a plus in fast changing light.

you can see in this study how closely the greys imitate the colors of nature

 So, how about the negatives of using this system. 
_Using only the three primaries did limit my ability to produce some colors, especially the greens. It was easy to get an endless variety of olive greens but much harder to get variety in the bright greens. More care had to be taken in the color that surrounded the bright green in order to get it to look bright.
_The finished painting can become too grey for my taste. Half of my motivation to paint comes from a delight is seeing all the subtle color around me and exaggerating it just enough to communicate what I'm seeing.

 After playing with the palette for a while, I've begun to reintroduce other colors back into the basic palette- usually a red oxide or sienna type color,  viridian green if needed and one or two other colors if needed. I'll be paying much more attention to using greys with my color but I don't think I'll be excluding the colors that give me so much joy to paint with.

a coastal study in greys

  

Another Good-bye

Please excuse me reader, and indulge me as I take a break from strictly art topics to write about my sweet cat Shadow who was a constant fixture in my studio. I lost him this week to age and kidney failure. The chair in a corner of the studio where he always curled up on a red blanket looks strangely wrong without him.

He loved being anywhere I was and never failed to greet me at the door whenever I came in. Once he discovered that the studio was where I spent my time, you couldn't keep him out of it. He charmed my students and visitors with his affection and gentleness. 

healthy and content last summer

 I've never seen a cat whose eyes changed color, but his alternated between clear gold and speckled bronze. I loved the gaze from his gold bronze eyes that seemed to contain more consciousness than many people possess. And what a magnificent tail!  - lush and thick and held high even as his body lost the muscle tone of a younger cat.

surveying his domain

I don't believe that anything as good and positive as that little creature could ever be abandoned or forgotten by his Creator, and that conviction eases my heart ache for Shadow's sweet presence.

sharing a moment at the animal hospital

When Plein Air Works

When a plein air painting works, it's very gratifying. When it doesn't, it can sap your confidence and cause you to question whether you have any ability at all. After two days in a row of "scrapers" I'm compelled to analyze why the results were so pitiful.

I like this one- Winter Day on Navarre Beach - that I did in February. It's energetic, it contains the right amount of information and it has the feel of the place.

Winter Day on Navarre Beach
see it here

So what went wrong today and yesterday? Yesterday's failure I can understand. I was trying something I'd never done before. I was looking towards the sun and trying to capture the sheen of the sun on the water. The values of the sky against the sea and the reflection of the sun's light on the water were a challenge. Two hours later and with fried eyeballs, I had to admit defeat. I know though that the subject is well worth another try.

Today was a different matter. I stood at the river's edge looking at a low building that was shadowed in green blue. The lightest note in the scene was the glare on it's metal roof. Grey trees behind it enhanced the simple mood and palette. Two or three dark pines provided contrast. To the left was a pale blue railroad trestle over the river. 
If I had stuck to what had first attracted me - the shadowed building and the contrast of dark and pale in the foliage around it- I'd have done fine. But the curved riverbank was so pretty and the water was so tempting. And what a gorgeous soft blue on the trestle! You guessed it! I tried to put it all in. Daylight faded and my canvas became a sticky mess as I adjusted and re-adjusted a composition that should have been stated in the first ten minutes.  But now that I know why it failed, I'm ready to head out again tomorrow.
I don't think I'll throw my paints out just yet.

Talking About Plein Air

A few days ago, I was invited by the Gulf Breeze Arts Association to speak to their members about plein air painting. Most of these enthusiastic artists had never painted en plein air. My job was to talk to them about how to get started.

 I showed the group the difference between a studio painting and works painted outdoors. After talking briefly about the history of plein air painting, I compared historic approaches of working outdoors, to the current debates concerning whether a plein air painting needs to be completed in one go and without revision

talking about why I don't recommend this plein air umbrella

 I brought examples of my own work, demonstrating that the reasons for painting a plein air piece can vary. Some  were 1 hour quick studies painted to understand a painting problem or to gather information. Others I'd painted by returning to the same place several times. Still others I had started outdoors and then finished in the studio.

Next I talked about the options for field easels, color choices, and the little extras like water, sunscreen and bug repellent that are so necessary for outdoor painting in Florida.

tools of the trade

On April 5th, we'll put it all together in a 4 hour Getting Started in Plein Air workshop. If you're in the Pensacola area and would like to join in, contact me for information.

A Once in a Lifetime Storm

On Friday three days after the ice storm, ice still coated the shady sides of the streets. I've never heard such a deep silence in Gulf Breeze as there was the day after the storm. Roads, bridges, schools and businesses were closed for more than two days. Long time residents said they'd never seen  the spectacle of ice encased pine boughs and crepe myrtles on the coast. Crystals of ice accumulated on the ground creating the appearance of a dusting of snow. Road salt isn't stocked in a place that never needs it. Streets and sidewalks were so slick that it was easier to slide along them as if on skates than to try to walk.

Palmettos in ice

By Friday, most of it was over and the local plein air group came out to paint along the waterfront. Though it was early afternoon, a sunset colored fog was rolling in from across the Gulf of Mexico. Here is my sketch of Pensacola Bay looking across toward the Gulf. 

Into the Gulf - oil - 7x16