Archive for the ‘Travel’ Category

En Plein Air — Key West

Tuesday, May 1st, 2018

Spring and summer can be lovely times for painting outdoors, to try to capture a genuine feel of the natural world, out in the fresh air and sunshine. I have had a tendency to shun direct sunlight up to now, since my northern European heritage of pale skin and green eyes do not take kindly to the strong sun in my adopted state of Florida.  But I am determined to be more daring through the next several months.

In order to keep me from wimping out, I am committing here and now to blog this summer on at least some of my plein air experiences.  So stay tuned.

After a few local efforts, my plein air adventures seriously kicked off with an overnight trek in April to Key West, which gave me incentive to get out on my own to do some painting on location there.  I loaded up a backpack and set out to canvas the town.  What was I looking for?  A taste of the island’s unique flavor without relying on clichéd scenes.

My husband, a friend, and I headed down on the Key West Express—a 3½ hour catamaran trip from Fort Myers Beach. Arriving shortly after noon, we caught an Old Time Trolley to get a tour and quick overview of the entire island.  We hopped off briefly to drop our overnight gear off at our hotel, and then resumed the tour on a subsequent trolley to make our way back to Mallory Square for dinner and, eventually, the tropical sunset.  Clouds low against the horizon precluded any hope of our catching the fabled green flash, but there was plenty else to interest us.  All afternoon I had made note of particular areas to focus my attention for painting purposes on the following day.

The next morning we split up, the men to find their amusements, and I to seek my own.  While others queued up to take selfies at the Southernmost Point marker (which, ironically, isn’t really the southernmost point of the Continental US at all), I set up my easel to depict one of the lovely old guest houses in the neighborhood.

180411w "Dewey House," 10"x8" watercolor by Charlotte Mertz

“Dewey House” by Charlotte Mertz (10″x8″ watercolor, #180411w)

After lunch, I resumed my quest and decided that the lighthouse, which I had considered painting, offered unsatisfactory views and poor angles for what I wanted to do, so I jettisoned that idea and continued north on Whitehead Street to find a house whose front yard burgeoned with bouganvilla.  It proved a very pleasant subject on which to while away the afternoon.

Although neither painting was entirely satisfactory to me, I learned a lot from the experience.  I also made several pencil sketches and collected innumerable photos to use as reference material back home.

Characteristics of Place

Thursday, March 1st, 2018

The transition from winter to summer seemed very sudden for us in Florida this year.  One of the few natural clues in the past few weeks that we were experiencing “spring” was the dramatic fall of leaves from the live oaks after daytime temperatures rose suddenly from the 50s and 60s(F) into the mid-to-upper-80s within a week.

Unlike most deciduous trees, live oaks cling to their leaves through the fall and winter, releasing the small, drying leaves only as the new growth of spring leaves begins.  So, in conjunction with our winter temperatures largely mimicking summer temperatures in more northern regions, (and aside from the fact that we don’t get much of a cold reprieve for more than about a week, ever) sometimes it feels as though our seasons are a bit backward on the Florida peninsula.

Hanging Moss in Oak Park, by Charlotte Mertz (8"x10" oil, #180207-o)

Hanging Moss in Oak Park, by Charlotte Mertz (8″x10″ oil, #180207-o)

It was a good reminder to teach my students to watch for the unique characteristics of not only the specific vegetation in the locales in which we paint, but other identifiable aspects typical of the region.  These may include rock and soil color and configurations, species of trees and shrubs in the area, wildlife native to the region, and architecture designed either to address climatic conditions or to incorporate notable regional cultural influences.

These regional differences are one of the reasons we travel – to recognize and experience both environmental and cultural differences from other areas we’ve known.  I believe, too, that it is one of the reasons plein air painting has become so popular in recent years.  Not only are the physical characteristics of a specific region different from those in other places, but the prevailing atmospheric conditions can be recognized, as well.  Artists often refer to it as “the quality of light.”

Atmosphere is influenced by a number of different factors.  These factors include level of humidity; active precipitation; prevailing winds; air pollution; mist, fog, or salt spray; type and depth of cloud coverage; the colors reflected from the earth’s surface onto the underside of clouds; and even altitude relative to sea level, which can affect the density of the air itself and the light’s refraction among any airborne particles.

As I write this blog, the air is heavy, dense with humidity.  Colors are less saturated, values are condensed into narrower bands of lights and darks than usual.  On days like this my grandmother would comment that the distant side of the lake on which she lived appeared particularly far away, whereas on clear, cloudless days she might say the far shore appeared especially close.  It is this kind of difference that, as an artist, I try to be aware of, to establish in my work a sense of the atmospheric conditions in a specific place.  It’s a lesson I mean to extend to my students.

 

Another Route to Explore

Thursday, June 1st, 2017

This past month my route of explorations took a more literal turn.  I was seeking out not new civilizations, but new landscapes, different qualities of light, and a variety of textural features.

Besides my usual goal of taking a bevy of photographs for future reference, my intention this time was to keep a travel journal of quick sketches to record some of the interesting physical features that caught my eye.  I knew that being on the guided tour we had lined up would preclude my claiming long stretches of time in which to paint at leisure.  But it would also challenge me to achieve accuracy and key visual impressions in a minimized time-frame—always a good exercise for an artist to undertake.

Would I also be able to capture, or at least suggest, some of my emotional impressions as well?  How well would the journal recall the story of our experiences?  I could only make the attempt and ascertain the answers after the fact.  So rather than taking a lot of equipment, I packed up a minimal art kit that could be stowed in a small shoulder bag or pieces of which could be tucked into pockets for opportune moments.  …

Despite all my good intentions, I discovered very quickly that it was unrealistic to expect to accomplish much more than very quick sketches, and even less realistic to take time to actually paint productively.

170505w  Sunset Lit Sedona

170505w Sunset Lit Sedona

I did manage to get a few sketches done while we were on our own, such as the sunset-lit Sedona mesa, above.  Once we joined the time-intensive Road Scholar tour, however, I found extremely few opportunities even for the briefest of sketches.  I tried some very quick pencil sketches during our hikes but then had to run to catch up with the rest of the herd. Nor did working on the tour bus work very well, as my hand bounced too much, and I feared dumping either water or paint on my traveling companions.  Ah well, I did give it the old college try.

Ultimately, I focused instead on shooting literally thousands of reference photos and maintaining a written journal, which included (among other things) color notes and conceptual ideas relating to the area and the culture of its inhabitants.

Despite the deterrents to painting on location, I was still able to closely observe the terrain, landforms, and their indicative color relationships, understand better their development and subsequent erosion patterns, and couple that with information about local flora and fauna and with an enhanced appreciation of the people who have not only struggled and survived but manage to thrive in that difficult environment. I trust that this added insight will benefit my work in the long run, leading it toward a greater level of maturity and expression.

Depicting the Experience

Wednesday, June 1st, 2016

Travel often takes me away from the studio for days or even weeks at a time.  These excursions are fun, informative, and usually provide me with sufficient photographic reference material to work from for quite some time to come.  But it also interferes with the continuity of both my production and my ongoing studies.  The question about how to make the most productive use of my time is always in the back of my mind.  If I focus on art, it usually takes time and attention away from the people my husband and I may be visiting or limits the range of what we spend time seeing in a new environment.

So I usually find it necessary to compromise, taking quick shots with my camera, trying to quickly commit to memory the color relationships, characteristic lines or rhythms, and details that attract me to the scenes I shoot, and then moving on to actually experience and enjoy the situation or event.

Recording a photographic or painted image as an isolated scene is usually not sufficient to endow the image with much meaning.  It is enriched by the experience surrounding the image so that when I begin to draw or paint the scene a viewer can sense more than the scene alone can express.  What is the physical and emotional atmosphere?  How does it affect my feelings toward it or experience of it?  What do I want to share with others about my response to what is happening? To make the most of my time, I need to be able to imbue my work with a sense of the overall experience, even as a journalist expresses through an anecdote a microcosmic expression of a larger story.

This spring, I took a long cruise that limited my access to all but very simple equipment – mostly pens, pencils, and a little watercolor travel kit.  One of the great pleasures I found during our days at sea was the opportunity to meet an informal group of creative women who were working on various types of textile work.  It was a relaxed group who all managed to accomplish quite a lot in our limited time together.  We met almost daily to chat, pursue our various arts or crafts, and share designs and ideas; and we quickly developed a lovely rapport.

Meanwhile, I took advantage of the rare vacation opportunity to indulge my own art. So I focused on sketching and quick watercolor studies of members of the group.  In the following sketch I tried to capture the sense of comfortable camaraderie we shared while pursuing our work.

160443w Knitting & Nattering

160443w Knitting & Nattering

The ladies graciously served as unselfconscious models for me, and I hope I was able to leave them with unique, personalized mementos of our time together.

Moving right along…

Monday, June 15th, 2015

I love to travel. And I love to paint. But it’s difficult to take time out to paint while I’m traveling, especially when my husband wants to see and do as much as possible without twiddling his thumbs while I spend a lot of time enjoying a single site.

150208m Shelling

So, although my watercolor kit is compact and quick to set up and use, I tend to rush my travel paintings and often don’t get as good a result as I’d prefer to. My usual watercolor style involves use of a wet-on-dry technique to produce the sharp edges in my focal area. This allows me to focus my work on the area of greatest interest immediately. Peripheral areas are often applied wet on wet.

Unfortunately, wet areas applied late in the process take the longest time to dry, so I must wait for them to dry before I can add any final details … and even longer before packing up my materials and getting ready to move on.

A friend suggested that I try using pen and wash. At the time I wasn’t confident enough in my drawing abilities to use a pen in lieu of my erasable pencil for any initial sketches. But as I’ve gained confidence, I find that with minimal pen marks I can delineate the necessary fine details in my subject and apply quick washes to provide suggestions of color. It also leads me to leave more of the paper unpainted, which lends sparkle and a sense of immediacy to the work.

So my travel sketches seem to be evolving, as you can see in “Shelling” (#150208m, above). And you may be seeing more of the pen-and-wash variety in the future.