My Friend Jose

He was on a hammock and warned me I only had 30 minutes. It is not a good likeness, but it is a great watercolor. On Lanaquarelle block, 140 lb, 12 x 16"

What I Learned From Watercolor

Benicia's Waterfront, Acrylic on birch panel, 16 x 24"

I don't know if many of you know that for years I did not have a proper studio. Because oil and acrylic demand a certain amount of space, I felt I had to paint in watercolor all of those years. Now, I made this choice joyfully as one of my most admired art instructors happens to be a superb watercolorist and he influenced me. As a result, through high school and for the next 15 years, I saw the world through the demands of the medium. So what did I transfer once I was in my forties and financially able to build my own studio? I asked myself that question and the results were amazingly rich.

I am impervious to the seductions of heavier media. Let me explain. Oil and acrylic are so sensuous, it's like playing with lotion, or butter. It's hard to get on with the program. But watercolor, specially when you are doing figurative work, forces you to draw, to make at least a primitive plan before you begin. You must also take care of all the midtones before you lay your darkest values. So you learn patience and delayed gratification in several ways.

I never stopped observing. Because I was continuously presented with practical problems (now how do I depict those palm fronds?), I got into the habit of observing with these in mind. I may have not had a studio, but I painted with my mind when I was not doing watercolor.

My colors stayed pure. I learned to make the maximum use of the white of the canvas. I learned to stay away from muddy colors and use transparencies. I used the same pigments you would find in acrylics, trying not to overwork the surfaces.
Now I know when to stop. There is a point in watercolor when you've done all you can. Because it is a demanding medium, you learn to tell. You learn this the hard way too, by ruining nice paintings in a manner that is often impossible to disguise or scrape.

I think this is all. Whithout considering myself a real watercolorist, there is much I owe to this medium once considered appropriate only for field scketches and preparatory studies.

Tucson

Two huge watercolors I did outdoors a few years ago, about 18 x 24" I was remembering them because I will be traveling to Tubac (about 20 minutes south of Tucson) next week.

Views From The Hills

The Tropics

Where else can you paint while besieged by mosquitoes, sand flies, and fiery ants? You become aware of the sweat running down your back while sitting in the shade. The smell of rotting matter ambushes you next to breathtaking vistas. Skyscapes change within minutes, and huge raindrops pelt whatever cover you've taken, along with your watercolor paper. You feel sorry you wore shorts. All of this and more awaits the brave tropical plein air painter!

I decided to paint ten days after I had arrived to Puerto Rico. I was too busy before, and Ike was passing through the northern coast. It wasn't until we got to Vieques, a little island off the eastern coast, that I was able to pull out my watercolors. Medialuna, a gorgeous beach facing the Caribbean sea, had been occupied by the US Marines until four years ago but now was deserted. Viequenses do not see September as part of the beach season, and there were no tourists but us. We had been careful to get there before 8:00 AM, because later on the combination of high heat and humidity (both over 90) would prove too much even for a tropical girl like me.

If you are a careful observer of color, you cannot help but feel overwhelmed the first few days of your visit, as you quickly realize that your temperate climate/polluted air color scheme will no longer do. In the tropics, frequent rain washes the air, and colors are more brilliant. Folliage near the equator irradiates and reflects light with such enthusiasm, you will reach for your shades. One strategy is to allow your brain (not really your eyes) to adjust over a few days of just observing. Your eyes may be busy registering the new environment, but it is your brain who decides the changes you'll make in your approach.

After a few days, you discover shadows are dramatic in tropical sunny weather, sunrise through sundown. Contrast is so high, those very dark shadows seem to swallow reflected light. They are also quite mobile because the sun seems to move much faster through the sky near the equator. Sunset starts at around 4:00 and by 6:00 you can no longer paint because it is too dark out there. I paint them like I would paint a solid object, but this means marking their position early on and not being shy with values.

If the weather suddenly changes, that is, if clouds obscure the sunlight, or if sunlight makes a brief appearance in an otherwise overcast day, I wait, sometimes until the next day. I've found it pays to start several paintings almost simultaneously in different areas, that way if one location does not work out you always have another. Because of the sun's speedy trayectory, watercolors involving architectural elements typically take me at least two days. If I draw and lay the first layers on the first day, I can focus on those fugitive shadows on the second day. I find that I can better convey volume with this method, instead of trying to "cram" everything in a two hour session. Just because it is a watercolor does not mean it has to be painted in a flash.

Area there any advantages to tropical plein air? Well, the high humidity level means a low evaporation rate. You can take your time with washes and other aqueous effects. You can actually think more about your wet-on-wet interventions. Your paint stays wet on the palette, facilitating color mixes and saving you paint. You don't have to worry about cold weather or temperature changes ending your session. And you can paint in your suimsuit if you'd like!

Rites of Spring

We have continued going out to paint on Mondays. This is despite the poison oak, class-cutting teenagers, and exceedingly friendly dogs (one, named Coltrane, gave me a bear hug). Our group now has three steady people and might continue growing. We tend to meet at trailheads or parking lots, and not stray too far into the park. We actually climb up sometimes steep hills looking for views or just some cool air. It's fun, even if we sometimes have to pass our equipment to each other while we negotiate narrow, slippery cow paths.

These have all been completed on location, with minor corrections done later in the studio. There are two oils and two watercolors. Can you tell which is which? I find that my oil painting influences my watercolor painting, and that my watercolors influence my oils. Watercolor definitely helps me do very defined, quick but finished work when I feel like it, (see the purple field of vetch behind my standing colleague). Oil is fantastic for its luminosity, and you certainly don't feel like anything is "set in stone."

With these paintings, I feel like I am taking advantage of all the green I can get before the summer heat turns everything gold. Green in our Bay Area just doesn't seem to last as long. As Emily Carr so eloquently put it, "As the woods are the same, the trees standing in their places, the rocks and the earth... they are always different too, as lights and shadows and seasons and moods pass through them."

Two Looks At Inspiration

Inspiration Point is a rather beautiful (and conveniently located) part of Tilden Park. A friend from figure drawing class and I went at 9:00 AM on a blustery morning, and climbed up a steep little hill next to the main and paved path. I was going to take my oils, but it was just too cold to sit there for hours. I took watercolors instead, and a Lanaquarelle pad that is 16 x 20." As it turns out, the sun played hide and seek for a while and this helped me fight the wind chill (I was wearing neophrene gloves and many layers). I don't know why I don't remember that folding chairs don't work on hills (Karen my friend was sitting comfortably on the ground). An easel is what I should have taken, as the wind kept destabilizing my pad.

The sunnier view is of Mount Diablo, and the darker one is of Tilden looking south. The straight line near the top is the actual Inspiration Point parking lot. It looks like we did a lot of walking, but we did not!