Thursday, March 29, 2012

Keeping It Real








If truth be told, I have a love/hate relationship with plein-aire painting.  It's kinda like how I feel fixing a flat tire:  If I do it right, everything will be OK, but I'd rather not have to have a flat to begin with.  Don't get me wrong, every once in a while, I saddle up my old french easel and head out into the great outdoors and have a go at it.  And surprisingly, I usually enjoy myself.  Go figure...

But I have noticed something about plein-aire paintings that I have seen in galleries or group shows, and that is they all seem to say, "Look at me!  Look at me!  I'm a Plein-Aire Painting!  Can't you tell by my non-existent edges, and clumps of broken color?  Just like Monet!  And that crooked box thing?  It's my impression of a house!"  (Between you and me, even when I squint and look over my shoulder at an angle, my first "impression" of a house is that it has straight lines.  Just sayin').  In other words, there is a bit of sameness that one sees in paintings done out-of doors; an expectation of how plein-aire is supposed to look.  It's my own personal taste I admit, but I'd rather a painting say "What" instead of "How"  if you know what I mean.   Then again, I'd be lying if I said that I haven't fallen into that trap myself once or twice.  Like with this:





I am at heart a studio painter.  Even more:  I'm a studio Landscape painter.  Now, there are those who will tell you that being a studio landscape painter is like being a virtuoso on the air guitar.  Whatever.  I like the familiarity of my work space.  But that doesn't mean I don't like the authenticity that painting from direct observation brings.  I just approach it in a different way.


I have been known to grab a studio piece and go outside and paint a passage from life.  Skies mostly.  It doesn't matter what or where my subject is, I can paint a sky from life just by stepping out of my studio door.  Kinda like what I did with this:





Even though this is my own damn back yard, for goodness sakes, I painted it in the studio.  I didn't like what I had for a sky though-- which was a plain old boring blue.  So I set this up outside and painted these clouds and sky from life.


Studio pieces aren't the only ones to get this treatment.  Check out this painting from last fall:



 


This painting was actually done plein-aire, even though the location is miles away from where I live, the sky was done one morning from my driveway. 


But I'm also not against fixing a painting in the studio that I've started on location.

I did a plein-aire painting of a blueberry field last summer that I've never been completely in love with.  It always seemed half done to me.  As a plein-aire, maybe it worked, but I wanted a little more finish, so a few days ago I grabbed it and went over every bit of it in the studio.  I didn't really re-paint the scene, but I carried what was there a little farther.  Here's where it was after three days of painting on location last summer:




And here it is this week: 




Tune in next week to see how it will look then...



All I'm saying is that I want my paintings to have a similar style and "feel", and to me it matters not how I accomplish that-- whether I paint it all out doors plein-aire, or all inside the studio, or a combination of both. 

I'm just trying to keep 'em real. 

Looking.


.

10 comments:

Charlie Gray said...

Robert Henri said to his inquiring student , " dont worry kid , you cant get rid of originallity even if you wanted to.

Kay said...

I love the first comment. And I think we artists spend too much time trying to "be" a kind of artist and apologizing when we are just "being" something else. I forgot my brushes last summer and painted my first plein air with palette knives..to be honest there is a great young local fellow who paints plein air with palette knife and I wanted to do it too. And it was way fun. My friend says it keeps him honest and I can attest to that..no overworking tendencies with the knife. I love that you "fixed" paintings by dragging them outside to look at the sky from your driveway. The sky after all is the sky no matter where we see it!

Susan Roux said...

Keeping it real is going to set you apart as an artist. We all want to have our own recognizable style, I think. But it's certainly true that a lot of paintings are looking similar. Almost as though artists see the work of those they admire and try to copy their style rather than absorb what they like about it and let their own creativity lead them.

When I see a Kevin Mizner, I know immediately it's a Kevin Mizner. What's wrong with that?

When you see a Susan Roux, do you always know it's a Susan Roux?

SamArtDog said...

Hard to beat that Henri quote, I must say.
But I will say that I can never get the values right en plein-aire. So I totally understand dragging the blueberry field inside. 'Sides, it keeps the bugs out.

Kevin Mizner said...

Charlie-- Did Henri mean that as a blessing or a curse?....

Kevin Mizner said...

Kay-- Knives can be fun, but I'm still trying to figure out brushes!

Kevin Mizner said...

Susan, I believe astronauts should be able to spot a Susan Roux from outer space!

Kevin Mizner said...

Sam- I was crawling with spiders when I painted the blueberry field, but harassed by hornets in the studio. There is no winning...

SamArtDog said...

Oh yoo-hoo... Kevin! You will LOVE this video:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KFgZ97cmNcE&list=UUmKDv3cyP_NJ7UP4km9Yeog&index=4&feature=plcp
You'd think the skies would part for the likes of Jeremy Lipking (whom I admire as much as any living painter). They don't.

Kevin Mizner said...

Sam, I checked the video out, and I'm SHOCKED the heaven's didn't cooperate with Richard Schmid's progeny! Actually, I'm a huge admirer of Lipkings work. IMO, take Schmid and Lipking and accept no substitutes!