Just a Tad

Mountain Stream

This came out much better than I thought it did at first. I was trying to capture the patterns of light and shadow from the reference photo. I finally gave up because, at a certain point, if you keep reworking gouache, the water lifts the layer below and colors can easily get muddy. But then I posted it and people really reacted positively. Some I can take full responsibility for, but some comments were based on "happy accidents" that I didn't realize were happening at the time. But I definitely started with a plan this time.

I should get out to capture scenes En Plein Air, outdoors looking at real life instead of photographs. I've read many painters say that it is the best way to improve. But, there's a pandemic going on I'm trying to limit all travel. Sure, there's not much danger catching a whiff of Covid 19 in the middle of the woods unless Bigfoot sneezes in your direction but it's summer and most of California is enduring a heat wave along with the largest fires in recorded history (That's up north. We'll get our chance to burn when the Santa Ana winds kick up in the Fall).  I'm not even going to set up in the backyard when it's over 102˚!

I got the idea to watch some 4K YouTube videos of people taking hikes in a variety of locales. It wasn't perfect because I couldn't pick the composition. Maybe I'll look for virtual reality posts so I can adjust the view a bit. Actually, this image might be from a relaxation video featuring mountain streams. No matter, I liked the relatively simple shapes and strong light direction.

 

That's an improvement over my early tries. I'm not just looking around and thinking, "I guess I can paint that." I was more thoughtful. This photo has nice perspective cues in its shapes, values and color. The rocks overlap on both edges. Even the water has shapes that show depth, like the big hump of water between the front rocks, which then dips and surges up in another ridge and splash. The colors are warm in the front and cool in the back. I also liked the bands of shadow and light across the water. These things gave me goals within the painting.

When I started my gouache adventure almost a year ago, the idea of tackling a mountain stream wouldn't have occurred to me. But I did a nice job of capturing translucent water in a Koi painting from my Lena Rivo class. But what brought it into the realm of possibility was a black and white study of an Edgar Payne wave painting (two posts back). It seemed like I could do this one with a limited palette. I believe it was Yellow Ochre, Pthalo Blue, Ultramarine Blue, Venetian Red, Titanium White and either Lemon Yellow or Cadmium Yellow.

It may be silly to to a preliminary sketch for a sketchbook but I did. I held a scrap piece of paper and played with the colors. I was almost too pleased with it. I feared the "final" would suffer in comparison.

 For me, painting is often a psychological battle. If I worry about my performance, I freeze up. The causal act of just painting on a scrap of paper in my hand removed pressure. In turn, having it come out well got me part way up the mental mountain of the sketchbook painting.

I tried to capture the colors and shapes of the photo but gave myself permission to worry only about the painting and not the likeness. I wasn't trying to be a camera but I still dug into the photo for specifics.

The Happy Accidents

I was complimented on the translucence of the water. There's probably more in the water of the painting than there is in the photo. A large part of that was intentional. I wanted the viewer to see below the surface at the base of the various rocks. But there's some awesome distortion of the left, bottom edge of that front, right rock that just... happened. I don't think I was conscious of it as I laid down the strokes. But there's patches of color in the front pool and the light water at the base of the back rocks that suggest you're glimpsing rocks on the stream bed. It still counts whether I was trying for that or not, right?

The final "accident" that I was definitely aware of but decided not to change is, again, on that front rock on the right. You'll see that it's covered with moss in the photo. In my painting, it looks like a reflection from the pool of water. I'm not sure it makes sense with the light direction but I'll happily take it.

Next up: I paint the last page by returning to the beginning!              --Tad

 

More Catching Up

 I thought I was just a single post behind. Whoops. I'll start with something in color (barely), cover more black and white classwork, some color classwork, and two sketchbook pages. One I gave up on and the second that people declared a "Zip-a-Dee Doo-Dah" piece.

The seagull is from a photo from a very foggy pier up the coast. I tried adding interest with subtle clouds but I wasn't deliberate enough. Clouds should be taken as seriously as any other object in a painting. Here, the vertical brush strokes up and down the right side look like anything but clouds.

I should have started with a soft wash, light at the top to suggest sun starting to burn off the fog. That would match the feeling of sunlight on the gull's head. his underside seems muddy. It warmer but a subtler tone would be better. Maybe a touch of warm violet.

 

Back to full black and white for my class in landscape plein air sketching. I'm "lucky" to have rustic roads and hills within a five minute drive from my house. The "lucky" is in quotes because, come October the Santa Ana winds will begin to blow. High winds off the desert, sucking the last bit of moisture from the foliage, and capable of carrying burning embers a quarter mile or more ahead of a flame. Fire season, when we just hope the electric lines are in good shape and nobody is being stupid welding or BBQing upwind. Anyway, once again I headed out and took pictures that I thought would be good compositions for painting.

I should be painting them onsite. That's the whole point of plein air. You see colors in the shadows that the camera won't pick up and it forces you to draw. It also pushes you to finish in a short amount of time because the light is changing and the paints are drying. Maybe I'll try again when the weather is cooler and the pandemic isn't surging.

I think these are fairly successful. I didn't worry about capturing the specific angle of each distant slope. Working in monochrome definitely frees you up. Reducing the choices you have to make down to value and composition improves you chances of conquering each. The last two are just down the block from me. They're the less manicured surroundings of the city golf course.

 

 

Color for class! The next session introduced a limited palette of color, Yellow Ochre, Venetian Red, Sap Green, Ultramarine Blue along with black and white. Three of the painting were of photos included in class materials. The other three were to be done from life. I managed one of the hill looming over my backyard. It only "looms" when fire season is approaching.

I had already played with limited palettes. It's amazing what you can mix and what the eye perceives. Where you place a color matters nearly as much of what colors you mix. My daughter-in-law gave be a deep purple dress shirt for my birthday, perfect for hawking Darkwing Duck art at comic conventions. I had a bright purple/violet tie that I held up to it, in case I wanted to class up by con table. Suddenly, the shirt looked darker, almost a deep charcoal color. The warm incandescent light of a table lamp affected it's look but the bright hue of the tie changed it completely. So what might the Grand Canyon or Glendale foothills look like with such a palette?

I can't believe I tipped those water tanks, matching the angle of the slope. The aren't like that. They are level. And if I had painted them level the composition would be much stronger because of the contrast with all the sloping lines.

 

I do not like this truck painting. I thought the rusty heap parked outside a local restaurant would be perfect. But it turned out to be a "new" truck, maybe from a it. Brown paint was slopped on to make it look rusty. Not in a Hollywood, set designer way,  just random brush strokes. I started with a yellow underpainting. I probably should have used a violet or purple. The complimentary color would've added interest and also pulled down the brightness. 

  It's not ugly, in fact, it's fine. It just wore me down. I wasn't havin g fun and I didn't have a clear path toward saving it in my eyes. So I stopped.

The final sketchbook piece for this post is based on a photo by Dave Master. The photo itself looked like a painting. I experimented with Pthalo Blue for the sky which is a very potent color. That, along with the road and the bright colors of the foliage made my Disney friends think of the song sequence from Song of the South. I just needed to add a blue bird to the silhouette's shoulder.

The weeds growing into the road on the right seem to float a bit to me. I think the bright yellow on those plants pop too much with the purple hues of the road.

 

Next post: The consensus seems to think it's the best thing I've done so far!       -- Tad