I'd known about Paul and Peggi for a long time. Back in the late '70s my younger brother had told me about a Spanish teacher at the high school who fronted a New Wave band, Personal Effects. That was Peggi, and Paul played drums. Somewhat later I became a fan of their Xeroxed proto-blog, the Refrigerator. They were doing web design before most people knew what that meant and generally seemed to be on the cutting edge of local culture. I'd only bumped into them a few times before and was pleased for the chance to get to know them better.
I was also pleased to find that they live on a quiet street surrounded by woods, near the southeast corner of Durand Eastman Park; and that they are more down to earth and congenial than my imaginary conception of them -- abstract icons of coolness -- had suggested. On the negative side, I arrived with a serious sleep deficit and some anxiety about the upcoming California trip.
A good long walk helped. Paul and Peggi are serious walkers and have miles of trails to choose from, in and around Durand Eastman Park. I've lived in the Rochester area for almost 40 years but had never taken the time to explore this substantial pocket of woods and wetlands. It was a treat. So was dinner.
In between I tried to find something to paint. Not that there was any shortage of worthy subjects. But woods have an "all around" effect, more setting than scenery, and it can be hard to focus in on a composition. The more picturesque scenes I'd noticed on the walk were too far away to hike back to with my paints, so I opted for a view from the master bedroom window (shown above; details below).
The graceful trunks and branches, the delicate leaves, the rather diffuse atmospheric quality imparted by the window glass reminded me of a Chinese paintings. The effect would have been better conveyed with the calligraphic brushwork and delicate washes of ink painting. I felt very clumsy pushing oil paint around on a small panel, but some good energy came through. These details amplify some of that energy.
Later I drove a few miles to the shore of Lake Ontario to look around. It was nice to be near the lake, but was too tired to finish anything. This might be called an oil sketch showing headlights, sunset and the road along the lakeshore:
By morning I felt rather desperate to do what I considered a strong, distinctive painting. I should note here that Paul is a noteworthy painter, and his paintings – usually portraits, often in series or in grids – tend to convey a sense of purposeful concept. While my Itinerant Artist Project paintings emerge from a concept-driven project, each one is an arbitrary, unpredictable and often (at the time of painting) frustratingly incomplete response to an unfamiliar setting, a new world, an experience of people and place that I’m trying to come to terms with and honor in some satisfactory way.
After some poking around I decided that the brightly colored chairs in front of the house could provide a key image – with structure, personality and even metaphorical value. Actually painting them was a challenge, moreso because of all the warblers in the vicinity.
I’m a low-key birder who gets fanatical during warbler migration. Sitting still to paint while life moves on is rarely easy. With over a dozen warbler species singing and passing through the treetops around me, it was impossible. Every few minutes I got up to look around with my binoculars. (In case you hadn't noticed, the finished painting is shown at the start of this blog entry).
There are no warblers depicted in these painting details, but the magnified brushstrokes do have a feathery, flitting quality:
This view of Lake Ontario at sunset was done with help from a photo taken the night before.
Most of my paintings are done from life, but sometimes I work from a combination of memory, sketches and the monitor on the back of my digital camera. The results are sometimes good, but there’s usually more interactive energy in paintings done from life. In any event, quality of response is my primary aim in painting. There are no strict rules about what works and what doesn’t, but you know when you’re getting it and when you’re not.
After another walk (see Paul’s blog), I drove back to the Lake Ontario shore to paint but chose a view looking south – across Eastman Lake.
When describing my personal approach to painting, I like to paraphrase Kuo Hsi from Sung Dynasty China, who said his ideal was to bring together the subject, the medium and the artist's spirit in a way that does justice to all three. And I often mention clouds or trees as examples when describing the wonder of one or two brushstrokes being able to convey the reality of paint, subjective feeling and the image of something observed (e.g. a cloud), all at the same time. This detail shows a cloud.
And finally a little study of the house without chairs, just before I headed back home.
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