We are back on our virtual road trip. In the last few weeks, I've driven out to the coast twice, first to drop off my son at music camp and second time to go hear the amazing performance at the said camp. This painting is inspired by the drives out to the coast.
We have all kinds of weather out on the Sonoma Coast, but in the cooler part of the day, typically, the marine layer rolls in and envelopes the landscape in fog. Sometimes thick, other times just a thin veil. The atmosphere makes for really moody views, perfect for a Miura painting.
As with many of my landscapes, this one was done from memory. When I say painting from memory, I don't mean I have some kind of photographic memory and can recall views more or less accurately. I can't do that. It's just a very general sense of a place that I conjure up. The painting is conceptualized and composed in the studio without references, using vague recollections of places I've been in, using my visual vocabulary to build an image which conforms to an idea in my head. Sometimes I'm successful and it comes out exactly how I think it should. Other times, well, I have something else - usually because my "idea" was too vague or my craft was lacking.
In his book, Carlson stresses the importance of working from memory, and I have to say, it's one of the best ways to hone your skills. Painting from direct observation is absolutely essential, but memory work will force you to make sense out of your observed reality and add to your arsenal the ability to say what you want to say, and not just interpret, reiterate, or heaven forbid copy nature.
Sargent too, said something about observing anything and everything when you're not painting so that you develop the ability to edit later. To me, that's directly relevant to memory work.
Phil Hays used to tell us to build our visual vocabulary so that we may be able to visually compose an idea into a picture.
It's all the same thing, see. We need both observation work (plein air) and memory work in order to say what we want to say about what we're looking at, whether it's a bunch of trees in front of you, or in your head.
It's difficult to see in this painting, but if you click on it you'll see a larger version and perhaps you can kind of see, in the very top of the picture, the horizontal strokes vaguely define the landscape in the distance. I noticed that it kind of looked like a harbor or a bay back there, so in the next painting, I will capitalize on this discovery and let my painting evolve in that direction.
Keep on truckin'~
We have all kinds of weather out on the Sonoma Coast, but in the cooler part of the day, typically, the marine layer rolls in and envelopes the landscape in fog. Sometimes thick, other times just a thin veil. The atmosphere makes for really moody views, perfect for a Miura painting.
As with many of my landscapes, this one was done from memory. When I say painting from memory, I don't mean I have some kind of photographic memory and can recall views more or less accurately. I can't do that. It's just a very general sense of a place that I conjure up. The painting is conceptualized and composed in the studio without references, using vague recollections of places I've been in, using my visual vocabulary to build an image which conforms to an idea in my head. Sometimes I'm successful and it comes out exactly how I think it should. Other times, well, I have something else - usually because my "idea" was too vague or my craft was lacking.
In his book, Carlson stresses the importance of working from memory, and I have to say, it's one of the best ways to hone your skills. Painting from direct observation is absolutely essential, but memory work will force you to make sense out of your observed reality and add to your arsenal the ability to say what you want to say, and not just interpret, reiterate, or heaven forbid copy nature.
Sargent too, said something about observing anything and everything when you're not painting so that you develop the ability to edit later. To me, that's directly relevant to memory work.
Phil Hays used to tell us to build our visual vocabulary so that we may be able to visually compose an idea into a picture.
It's all the same thing, see. We need both observation work (plein air) and memory work in order to say what we want to say about what we're looking at, whether it's a bunch of trees in front of you, or in your head.
It's difficult to see in this painting, but if you click on it you'll see a larger version and perhaps you can kind of see, in the very top of the picture, the horizontal strokes vaguely define the landscape in the distance. I noticed that it kind of looked like a harbor or a bay back there, so in the next painting, I will capitalize on this discovery and let my painting evolve in that direction.
Keep on truckin'~
6 comments:
Lovely painting. Working from memory or imagination also reveals what you haven't been paying attention to. Dang, what does that kind of tree really look like, what color were the shadows in that late afternoon light shining thru the dust of the day? It makes you pay attention more closely.
Kaylyn, I agree. You don't know what you don't know until you're tested. It's so humbling!
Really, Terry...to me your paintings always look like I could step into or drive into them and keep going. Love how you've handled the grasses, so true to life.
Nice!
I like the color-contrast between the green grass and the pink soil!
Thanks Autumn~ Do come in and keep on driving!
Thanks rutger~ :-)
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