Today’s post comes from the Art Compartment which clatters down the prairie tracks just ahead of the pink Caboose where the tea is served, and follows closely behind the Car of Bicycle Tours. As the train gathers speed, it gently takes off into the universe of the Internet and whistles into your inbox.
I hope you like my metaphor!
Today’s question is “If you're a painter, where do you paint?“
As a longtime amateur watercolourist and art dabbler, I’ve confirmed my preference.
And that is, possibly by the window in my den, but even better, somewhere in the great outdoors. Natural landscape or urban sketching, both are dandy.
I’ve decided studio painting isn’t my style. I recently joined an Open Studio Group in Saskatoon, and found myself sitting at an easel face to face with a large, intimidating sheet of quality watercolour paper. My left hand gripped a nice fat watercolour brush. Glistening paint was squeezed onto a palette.
Other painters were working from photographs, all dabbing along in pleasant concentration. I had brought a photograph for inspiration: fresh flowers, kitschy flamingos and vintage barkcloth from my dining room buffet.
As the evening progressed, I saw I was creating a dark, overworked mess. The more I worked on it, the less I liked it. This was not fun. I added more paint the next evening, but there was no rescueing. I should know that black can kill a painting.
I gave large paintings a few more chances over the following month (I had paid for four weekly sessions in the Open Studio), then I gave up and decided to focus on what suits me better.
And that is painting small pictures outdoors.
Little pictures that can be finished in an hour or two and that capture a pleasant view on a sunny afternoon, maybe in a foreign country or maybe along the riverbank in Saskatoon.
Painting “en plein air”. That's my cup of tea.
It’s a satisfying activity, an easy blend of relaxation and concentration. Low-cost in materials and time.
That’s my jam, as they say, I like making personal souvenirs, more fun than buying a postcard. I’m looking for immediacy and freshness on the paper, and a pleasant experience alone, or sometimes with others. No expectations of a masterpiece to stress the moment.
Watercolours and drawing fit beautifully with travelling and gently slow down the world of sightseeing.
Our travel group took a few minutes to paint in this cafe after a swim in the sea by the tiny Greek island of Kastellorizo, also called Meis. No one worried about their final picture, I don’t remember even sharing them, it was the process that was the pleasure.
The truly gorgeous island of Meis, just a short ferry ride from Kas,Turkey
Sometimes my plein air stuff happens in Mexico with a tribe of like-minded people who have been gathering every Monday morning for years.
Some of the artists I’ve worked alongside are talented and inspiring people like Franco, pictured here working at his portable easel. An Italian guy from Venice, Italy who spends winters in Oaxaca. One of the pros.
All levels of artists of welcome. The mood is always complimentary. I’ve never heard a word of judgement in Spanish or English.
These are some of the 2024 Dibujantes Callejeros (Street Artists) that I have tagged along with. Some are native Oaxaqueños and others are snowbirds like me.
We painted the little pleasure boats at a dam near Huayapam, a short drive from the city of Oaxaca. No ocean here, no resorts, no beach vendors, a different kind of Mexico, quiet and still.
I love painting with my friend Marisa who lives most of the year in Portland, Oregon. She’s a regular with this group, a creative artist who does wonderfully imaginative work.
Here’s the picture I did sitting beside her in a dry fountain a few years ago at Soledad Church. My paints are beside me in the tiny white box.
Some of these souvenirs below are from Mexico, but there’s one from Ness Creek, SK and another of mountains in Fernie, BC., and a dock in Newfoundland. The dock was painted later from a photo, so I can’t say it’s en plein air.
I remember soaking up the atmosphere sitting in this quiet, pastel square in the coastal town of Piran, Slovenia, during a bike trip in June 2024.
Yes, I'm ready to pack the same tiny box of watercolours I’ve used over the years, and join the group of Dibujantes Callejeros again this year.
If this kind of painting seems enticing, maybe you should give it a try! There are plenty of YouTube videos to get started.
Or have a look at my other posts on this topic under the Art category in the menu above (keep scrolling way back to my two earliest stories on Urban Sketching).
My acrylic paints and large sheets of paper on the easel will have to wait for someone with more energy and artistic ambition and patience than I have. Any takers? My grandchildren may be interested.
The weather is cold, my iPhotos are calling so more Caboose Posts will be coming down the blogging tracks this winter. I like this writing business; my personal/public journal provides me with just enough challenge and hours of entertainment.
Thank you for reading or scrolling through the packages.
-Jean
