The pleine air painting and a question from Pope Julius II

Is it finished?

The story is told that when Michelangelo was painting the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel, Pope Julius II would look up and shout to him "When will you be done?," and Michelangelo would shout back "When it is finished!" Of course they were talking about physically finishing the paintings of the entire ceiling and not just one particular segment. This, admittedly is a round about way of taking us to pleine air painting and the question of when it is finished. Pleine air painting poses a very different question of when a work is finished versus a studio painting, of course, because of time constraints. One could argue that this statement is not true, as finished means finished no matter where the painting takes place. I will be truthful and tell you that most of my paintings are not alla prima and require some work in the studio to be "presentable." Occasionally, I come upon a scene that is so perfect for pleine air work that I can figuratively paint it before I paint it. These paintings do not need a single stroke after the work out of doors.  For me, this is rare but it does happen.

This is an alla prima piece measuring 20 x 16

The question is, "How do you know when the painting is complete?" The answer lies in another question, "Does your picture represent all that you wished to say of the scene before you?" We know that something can always be added to a painting to "finish" it. We think that we need more detail, some color correction, maybe some composition rearrangement, more design elements, softening of edges, nicer brushstrokes, and so forth. It is at this point that we should lay the brushes down and take a closer look at the painting. What do I mean by a closer look? Analyze the scene before you and revisit your inspiration for choosing it to paint. What was it that made you want to express your feelings in the painting? Was it the mood or the particular subject or the raw emotion? How could you best capture these feelings in paint? Do you still see these emotions in your painting up to this point? Does something else need to be added to express your emotion more fully? I speak for myself when I say that I have ruined many pleine air paintings by answering these questions incorrectly. Sometimes the rather rough appearance of a two-hour painting worries me. I think that I must do more in spite of the fact that I like what I have done, and I feel that it tells the story. Why do I question the completeness of my work when I am satisfied with the result? Is it because I fear it won't sell or others might say that it seems "unfinished?"

I enjoy painting in the vignette style, which leaves some of the canvas unpainted. I have left it that way because, simply, there was no more to say. I don't know at the start of the picture that it will be a vignette because I haven't concentrated on making the whole canvas a picture. I am working at using the space I need to paint the subject. This is a fault of mine, so I shouldn't be sensitive to comments about completing the picture (*expletives deleted*).  Many paintings can be touched up in the studio... but, be careful! This is where the painting is most susceptible to be ruined. Stand back 4 feet and keep your brush off of the painting until you know exactly what you will do to improve it. If you don't really know what to do, leave it alone! You have then made the best decision.

What we have talked about here is one of the most difficult of questions that an artist asks himself. If you have a good, solid feeling for what you are trying to say, then you WILL know when you have said it. A lukewarm response to the subject before you will almost always result in a lukewarm representation in paint. So, happy painting and remember Pope Julius!

 

Behind the Brushes

"The pleine aire painting and a question from Pope Julius II"

Bill Sawczuk

Trio Fine Art

www.triofineart.com

Let's talk about commissions...

Trio Fine Art is back with Behind the Brushes! This issue, I am discussing my own feelings on a subject very near and sometimes a little sensitive to the artist and the client, that is, the commission. 

"Cornerstone, Symbol, Sentinel," the Notre Dame Commission

In the fall of 2015, I was invited by my alma mater, the University of Notre Dame, to return to campus to do a painting of the iconic administration building, the Golden Dome. I was completely honored by this request, undoubtedly a magnificent subject with its Gothic revival design and gleaming top. And yet, this was a project that included some relatively specific ideas of the client’s vision. They wanted it to include the fall colors, a certain angle of the building, and a vertical orientation with certain proportions. 

And so it goes with commissioned work.

For ages, artists have been hired to create images that are the original inspiration of another’s request. Illustrators, portrait painters, and documentary artists have all had to answer to someone else. How does this compare to the imagery that the artist is internally motivated to do?

"Dance," a large 48 x 54 sandhill crane commission

Well, like anything, there is a give and take to both kinds of artwork.  

Quite obviously, the advantage of commissioned work is that there is a paycheck in the end… if the client is satisfied. The advantage of internally motivated work is that those paintings are a free expression of the artist's true heart.  I would like to argue that there are other, less obvious advantages of commissions. 

"Pronghorn Sketch," sketch exploring a commissioned piece

First of all they are an exercise in problem solving. Creativity can still flourish with constraints because an artist must within set parameters. This is not to say that commissions are easy. Quite the opposite! They challenge us on a whole other level. Commissions also afford us an opportunity to work in collaboration. In their exploration out west, photographer Henry Jackson and painter, Thomas Moran teamed up to capture the views of their expedition for the US congress. I have found that when I do commissioned work it becomes a collaborative process with the client. If it is commissioned portrait, I first get to know that personality of my subject and how best to represent it.  For other subjects, I spend time understanding what is important to them in the composition. We explore these ideas through a series of preliminary sketches. Not only does this avoid misunderstandings in the final paintings, but it gives the client a peek into the way I approach the composition of other paintings. Finally, commissioned work is an opportunity to make another person happy. Artists have skills that can be used in service to create a lasting memory of a treasured pet that has passed or to capture the spirit of a beloved child. Our images become a part of their home and their lives, and oftentimes take on a special significance. 

There is a danger of doing too much commissioned work. It is critically important to balance it with paintings that explore the artist’s singular voice with no end in mind. These paintings feel more like play… and that is an essential quality in art!

 

Behind the Brushes

"Let's talk about commissions..."

Kathryn Mapes Turner

Trio Fine Art

www.triofineart.com

So You Want to Be a Plein Air Painter?

(originally sent by email 3/25/2015)

Bill Sawczuk

First of all, what must be considered when undertaking this most noble of artistic endeavors?  Get a job so that you can buy art supplies just in case sales aren't as forthcoming as you would hope after a hard week of painting.  After all, how long should it take to produce marketable art?  

Now that you have a few supplies that you will need: paint, brushes, canvases and boards, portable easel, solvents or other mediums, rags, paper towels, trash bags, stool, sketch pad, bear spray, mosquito repellant , large brimmed hat and possibly a shade umbrella, you will be ready to paint. 

 

Where to start?  

First, find a scene that is calling to you to be painted.  There it is; a beautiful mountain vista!  Let's start!  First we'll set up the " easy to use portable easel. " Now, how does this thing work? You unfasten the right leg and set it on the ground.  Wait, that's not right......it's too short!  You forgot to loosen the thumb screw and slide out the leg extension.  While you're sliding out the leg extension you wish that you had an arm extension to go along with that leg extension.  Fine, now you have one leg on the ground.  Now you do the same thing with the left leg and the rear leg all with one arm as you're holding the easel with the other.

Where the plein air magic happens.

Good, all three legs are on the ground and you're ready to start.  Not just yet.  You have to level the easel.  Remember those thumbscrews?  You loosen them (one at a time) and slide the legs in or out to adjust their length until the easel is level. You will get the hang of it after 5 or 6 times. 

 

Remove the palette from the paintbox and set it on the pullout paint tray.  If you haven't already done this, you must put out dabs of paint on the palette in some sort of logical arrangement; by color temperature, value, hue or whatever looks good to you. Good! Now get out your solvent and medium and put it on the tray, or clip it to the palette so that it will be handy as you start to paint.  Not just yet.  Get out your bear spray and fasten it to your belt or wherever you can to keep it handy (I hope that you have already practiced with the spray so that you don't spray yourself in the face in the unlikely event that you should need it.... the bear spray, not a spray in the face!).  Now get the bug spray and coat yourself with it and you will cut the bug distraction by 50% .  I don't know what  to tell you about the other 50%.

Three extended easel legs - check. Big rock and bungee - check.   Wait...Bill! Your canvas is backwards!!

Now you're ready.  Choose the size of canvas or board that you wish to work with and fasten it to the easel with those little L shaped hooks that loosen with a simple twist of a knurled knob. If you twist too hard, you'll knurl your fingers. I usually tie a trash bag to the easel and weigh it down with a rock (not with a Grand Teton National Park rock!) that you have brought along for that specific purpose or you will be chasing painty paper towels through the sagebrush.  Now it's time to start!  Wait, do you detect the wind kicking up?  This is not good.  The wind causes problems that we wish to avoid such as vibrations in the canvas and flying dust and debris.  If the wind continues to strengthen (between noon and 3 PM) it may even do the unthinkable and blow over the easel, resulting in trauma to the easel and extreme frustration on your part.  Painters have been known to lose their tempers and use bad words at this point.  But don't do it!  Calmly pick up your easel, clean your canvas or board, reattach it to the easel, and try to clean up any paint or solvents that may have stained the ground.  I should have mentioned earlier that your solvents or mediums should be covered until you are actually ready to paint!  Now is the time to prevent the easel from blowing over again. Weigh it down with a rock and use ropes or bungee cords to tie it  to a tree, your vehicle or a fence.  Watch out with those bungee cords as they might snap back and hit you in the face and you will want to use those bad words again. But don't do it.

 

© Bill Sawczuk.

Now you're ready.  First, you should get out your sketch pad.  It is wise to do a few sketches of your subject so that you can determine your composition.  The mountains will be a great subject today, just look at that color!  Look at the clouds above the mountains!  Wait, what about those old cabins? They would be great to paint!  Now you see some buffalo nearby, and they would be good subjects.  What about painting those aspen in their beautiful fall foliage?   You must make crucial decisions here because you can't paint it all .  Pick what you like the best and start your sketches. You should be ready to go after 3-4 sketches. Now comes that great feeling.  You get to make the first marks on that empty white surface........Here goes!  Wait, is it getting dark?  Forget the whole thing.  Pack it up and go home.

 

Kathryn takes Bill's advice to heart.

 

From the paintbrush trail,

Bill Sawczuk

 

 

 

In Praise of Memory

It is very well to copy what one sees; it's much better to draw what one has retained in one's memory. It is a transformation in which imagination collaborates with memory. (Edgar Degas)



Enlightened, © Jennifer L. Hoffman, 2015,
oil and cold wax on linen, 24x18 in.

Think of a moment that is etched in your memory.  Perhaps it is a moment from your childhood.  Maybe it's something from last week.  What is it that you remember about it?  Why is that moment recorded in your mind?  When I think of childhood memories, I flash back to when I was just two or three years old.  I was in bed in the same room with my baby brother.  The room was dark, with moonlight streaming in from the window.  I could see the baby in his crib, sleeping soundly, when a dragon lifted up out of the small hooked rug on the floor, flew over the crib and out the window.  I was sure the dragon had stolen my brother.  Of course this was a dream, one that I woke from shrieking in fear, but I remember it from a toddler's perspective, as a completely real experience.  I don't remember what the rug looked like, or what color the blankets were, or if there were curtains on the window.  What I do remember are the most significant bits that created my experience of that moment. 

In our memories, the details become soft around the edges.  Sometimes the details even change in our recollections.  But the most important essence, the most indispensable information is stored in our neural pathways.  In art, that distilled essence is the seed of an idea!

Being primarily a plein air painter, I usually paint what I see or at least an interpretation of it.  But sometimes I am gripped by a moment that is too fleeting to capture or too subtle/dark/bright to successfully photograph.  Perhaps inclement weather or other responsibilities prevent me from stopping to sketch or paint.  In those moments, my only option is to rely on my memory.  Trust me - I don't have a photographic memory (or even a moderately good one.  I write notes to myself to remember things, and then forget where I left the note)!  But my ability to recall the essence of my inspiration improves incrementally the more I do it. 


Kealia I, © Jennifer L. Hoffman, pastel on board, 12x12 in.



Some years back I participated in a plein air festival in Tucson.  A group of us went to Bear Canyon to paint one afternoon.  While opening my French easel, I managed to whack the back of my hand into a cactus and came away looking like I'd lost a fight with a porcupine.  That was the beginning of my painting session, followed by dropping a pile of pastels on the rocky desert ground, and ending with a downpour (spring monsoon season)!  As you might imagine, I was feeling less than confident about my efforts that day. Afterwards, while waiting on our dinner at a local restaurant, my friend Greg McHuron pushed a pen and a napkin across the table towards me.  Greg was one of the most knowledgeable and prolific artists I've ever known.  "Draw your composition," he said matter-of-factly.  I looked at him blankly.  "Which composition?"  "Draw what you painted today," he explained.  So I drew a thumbnail of what I remembered as the composition.  "Look!" he said, pointing at the saguaro in front of the mountains that I'd sketched on the napkin. "You've already improved on your idea!"  He was right: I had subtly shifted the main elements of my design into a better version of my original composition.  Without the distraction of a million compelling details in front of my eyes, that idea became my whole focus. 


Fireflies, ©Jennifer L. Hoffman, 2013, pastel on mounted
paper, 8x8 in (private collection).  This piece utilized
 a very blurry photo of a farmhouse near my childhood home
and my memory of fireflies coming out at dusk.

Greg did small memory sketches of compositions and ideas all the time throughout his career.  He encouraged me to do the same.  I have found this to be some of the most valuable advice I've received.  The more I practice, the more I lean on the knowledge I've accumulated from years in the field, and the more confident I am in that knowledge.  A great landscape painter and author of  Carlson's Guide to Landscape Painting, John F. Carlson was also a proponent of memory work. "If you train yourself in memory work, you fearlessly attack and rearrange your material, for you can retain your original impression."

Recently, on a family trip to Kaua'i, I witnessed the full moon rising as we drove by Kealia Beach.  The moist air and the clouds over the ocean were refracting the moonlight, and the scene was so subtle and glorious I could hardly breathe.  I was with my family after a long day of hiking, and even if I'd had the appropriate gear, no one would have had the stamina to wait for me to paint.  So I asked my husband to pull over, and we just watched the clouds drifting across the moon, the ocean rolling - trying to absorb the colors in the sky and how the moonlight danced on the waves.  It was so lovely, I didn't want it to end.  Later in my studio back in Jackson, I could hardly wait to try capturing the moment.  I made a drawing, two pastels, and a large oil, just playing with the elements that left the most impression.  What fun to relive it.

There are no crutches when working from memory.  But often, my memory paintings are the most satisfying to me, because they aren't bogged down by the "reality" of an idea.  Freed from unnecessary detail, they are truly about the essence of an idea. 

Want to give your memory a little workout?  I have a few suggestions to get you started.  If you're an artist, start by making a small drawing of the piece on which you most recently worked - no peeking!!  What are the main elements?  How do they relate to each other?  Afterwards, compare it with the original.  How has it changed?  What did you recall accurately?  Next, pay special attention while you're out for a walk or driving somewhere in your car.  As soon as you can, get out a sketchbook (or a napkin) and draw what you remember most.  Not an artist?  You can try it too - just make notes on paper about something you've recently seen or experienced.  What caught your eye?  What were the sounds, the smells, the light effects that compelled you?  Or try explaining it to someone else in a way that they can experience what you saw/smelled/felt/heard.  You may find your first few tries somewhat difficult, but if you keep it up, you'll find it easier and easier to capture a moment in your memory.  And that is a treat in itself.

Enjoy the memories -
Jen

A Day in the Life

Trio artists share how they would spend the ideal creative day. 

As the artists of Trio Fine Art described their "ideal creative days," it became apparent that being and feeling unplugged from technology, society, and everyday demands lay at the heart of our artists' inspiration. A chance to escape, to paint, to ponder - and share these experiences with others - these three talented artists take a moment to reflect on the special moments in their life in which they glean inspiration and motivation for doing what they do best.  

***  

6:30 AM | It's summer, and the days are long in the Wind River Range. Kathryn rises and starts the day with several Sun Salutations. These yoga moves get the kinks that happen from sleeping on the ground. A feel-good way to wake up! More awake, Kathryn gathers up her field easel to continue her study of the morning light. The cook starts the coffee back at camp, and Kathryn takes a break to grab her morning jolt of caffeine. When the painting is finished, she returns  to a hot breakfast at camp.

11:45 AM | After several hours of hiking, Kathryn finds herself high in the Green River Lakes area.

It is a clear summer day, and the light is vivid. She will spend the afternoon painting here.

2:30 PM | I am working on an afternoon painting that is informed by what I took in from my hike and sketches. The shadows are lengthening, and the colors are getting richer as the day goes by. It is a blue sky, but the high cumulus clouds slowly drift over the Mountains.

5:00 PM | The pack trip outfitters patiently wait as Kathryn puts the finishing touches on her paintings. They are packed away one a mule with the rest of the artists' materials to head back to camp. Appreciating the lighter load, Kathryn hikes back to camp, taking in the quiet and low light. Dinner is ready upon their arrival, and the artists and outfitters sit to enjoy a meal and each others' company around a dancing fire. As the stars start to appear, we feel uniquely blessed to be exactly where we are.

It feels like a luxury to be 'unplugged' from all this in the wilderness. In this solitude, I can best hear my artistic voice and intuition. - KMT

 ***

6:30 AM | The morning light finds Jen connecting with her husband, Ron, and daughter, Amelia. They share breakfast and discuss the day's plans. After walking Amelia to the bus stop, Jen takes a private moment to enjoy the sunshine on her favorite bench, writing and thinking about her art. Inspired and ready for the day, Jen packs up her painting gear and a lunch to head to Grand Teton National Park. She drives the Park road until she discovers her painting location for the day, exploring and reacting to the light. This is her favorite way to decide where and what to paint, focused and feeling like I am where I am supposed to be.

11:45 AM | Limited by the changing patterns in the light, Jen works for no more than one hour, one piece at a time, completing several sketches. Totally in my creative space... I lose track of time, completely at peace. Breaking for a brief lunch, Jen rests next to String Lake, enjoying her solitude. 
2:30 PM | Jen takes time to explore the far side of Leigh Lake by canoe as she waits for her family to arrive.
5:00 PM | Ron and Amelia prepare camp and dinner together, and Jen takes advantage of the waning afternoon light to capture her surroundings on the canvas. It's hard to give myself to the creative process when I feel compelled to take care of my family. But my family also gives me such joy that it feeds my creativity, and a trip like this is the perfect way to have it all! Camping by the lake, the three roast marshmallows and watch the stars together late into the night.

***

6:30 AM | A quick breakfast, and Bill sets off to his church to start the coffee and set up for Mass. After the service, he takes several canvases to a location North of town near the mountains to study the geometric shapes from the old buildings of the valley's ranches. The buildings provide contrast to the organic shapes of the landscape - this sets the picture off.
11:45 AM | Stopping to relax for awhile, Bill sets up a chair and admires his surroundings. Enjoying the day; feeling thankful.
2:30 PM | For the afternoon, Bill dives into a massive painting project on location - blocking in a 6 x 8 foot canvas! This image includes figures working in the landscape with the help of hired models. A rush of adrenaline and excitement working on a painting this size from life. He starts with two or three inch brushes to lay out a solid foundation of big, warm, dark, loose, bold brushstrokes that fall spontaneously into the right place!   
5:00 PM | Bill works as long as the light will hold, taking advantage of the immediacy of working from life. There is a sense of urgency that calls upon full concentration and commitment. He pays close attention to proportions, scale, and anatomy. Asking himself, What do I want to say, and how can I say it as simply as possible, he is thankful for the opportunity to experience and paint this scene, and to be able to share it with others through his work.

***

Make sure you take some time to 'unplug' as well.
All the best,

- Kathryn

 ___________________________________________________________________________

Save the Dates:

July 8th - 25th | Jennifer L. Hoffman's solo exhibition

July 29th - August 15th | Kathryn M. Turner's solo exhibition

August 19th - September 5th | Bill Sawczuk's solo exhibition

The Value in Value

by Jennifer L. Hoffman

It is very easy to see value in a drawing, as the entire image is created 
with only black, white, and shades of gray. Behind the Clouds, 
charcoal on paper, private collection, © Jennifer L. Hoffman.

In art, value is simply how dark or light something is.  There are many, many elements that must come together in a painting in order for it to be successful. It can be argued that, at least in representational painting, none is more important than accurate value. 

There are some great quotes out there about value in painting.*  Here's one, oft-repeated by artists, attribution unknown:
"Value does all the work; color gets all the glory." 

Or this one, from the author of Design and Expression in the Visual Arts, John F. A. Taylor: 
"There are painters... who know how to dispense with hues and saturations.  There is no painting which can dispense with values." 

Or this gem from Harley Brown:
"In painting, as in life, you can get away with a lot as long as you have your values right."

There are many similar values in this pastel.

You might think of value as the skeletal structure on which the rest of the painting hangs.  If an artist carefully observes and transcribes the values of a scene, the color he or she uses can be realistic or completely imaginary, but the scene will still make sense to the viewer.  (Click here for some examples of realistic value/imaginative color from a past show on Hungarian Fauvism).  If the values are off, however, no amount of color manipulation will make the painting work.  

Evening Song, pastel on board, 20x30, available. © Jennifer L. Hoffman.

Our brains have a surprising amount of preconceived ideas about what colors and values are or should be. Master artist and teacher Ned Jacob learned a lesson about the difference between our preconceptions and reality when painting with his mentor, Robert Lougheed. "The first time the two worked outside together, Jacob painted a horse with rich, dark color and black shadows.  When Jacob finished the picture, Lougheed walked over and studied it for awhile.  'Now what would you use if you were painting a post hole in that shadow?'" (Sandra Dallas, Sacred Paint: Ned Jacob, Santa Fe, NM: Fenn Galleries Publishing, Inc., 1979.)  The notions that we grow up with (snow is white, shadows are black, etc) often go unquestioned until we learn to truly observe the world around us.

A number of common problems in paintings can be directly attributed to value errors.  Ned provided me with an "Aha!" moment just as Lougheed had done for him decades before, when he made this observation while watching me struggle with a plein air study: "If you can't seem to get your values light enough, you probably aren't painting your darks dark enough."  Whoa.  That one cracked my head wide open!  It made so much sense, but I had never realized it.  Another example of a value problem is something often bemoaned by beginning artists - muddy color.  A muddy color is just a grayed color of the wrong value (and/or temperature - see Kathryn's post on color for more on the concept of temperature). 
  
So how does an artist determine correct values in a subject?  Values are in fact a set of relationships.  Determining the darkest dark in a composition and the lightest light is a great starting point.  And one of the best ways to see general values is to do something you've heard mentioned on this blog before.  SQUINT.  Squinting at a subject eliminates unnecessary detail and simplifies the main information.  In general, the darkest darks will be found in the center of interest of your composition, or in the foreground of a landscape (this is a rule of thumb - many artists have purposefully and successfully broken that rule).  Once the darkest dark and lightest light have been determined, the values of other elements in the subject can be determined through comparison.  Using thumbnail sketches helps to map out the most important value areas and to determine the value relationships throughout the composition. 

The darkest darks are in the cast shadows beneath the eggs in this painting.

 

Four Eggs, pastel on mounted paper, 9x12, available.  © Jennifer L. Hoffman.

Artists often manipulate the value range in their paintings for emotional or artistic effect.  Paintings that stay in the lightest value range are referred to as "high key" paintings, where the darkest dark might be a middle gray. 

A close value range in this pastel creates an introspective, quiet mood.

Whisper, pastel on board, 11x14, available. © Jennifer L. Hoffman.

Likewise, paintings painted in the lower scale of the value range are called "low key" paintings, where the lightest light might be a middle gray.  Paintings with subtle value shifts and close value ranges communicate a different feeling than those with big contrasts.  All of these choices reflect the artistic voice of the image maker.

Value contrasts create a sense of sun and shade.

A Worn Path, pastel on mounted paper, 20x16, available.
© Jennifer L. Hoffman.

I leave you with a quote from the great master, John Singer Sargent:

"Color is an inborn gift, but appreciation of value is merely training of the eye, which everyone ought to be able to acquire."

When you are out and about in the world, take a moment to squint.  See if you can find the darkest dark and lightest light in the view you see.  Do the same when you look at art.  The more you practice, the easier it becomes.  Sargent would be proud of you.
_____________________________________

*A great source for quotes on all manner of art topics can be found on Robert Genn's fantastic website: www.art-quotes.com

What it takes to Paint in COLOR

by Kathryn Mapes Turner

 

"Color in a picture is like enthusiasm in life"-Vincent Van Gogh

 

Volumes can be written on the subject of color. Since it is autumn, we couldn't resist touching on this subject for this month's article.   No doubt about it, the experience of color is a special part of life and no one does color like Mother Nature. In the summer, she exhibits the bright colors of the wildflowers.  Currently, Jackson Hole is ablaze with golden aspen leaves, red mountain maple, and all is off-set by distant blue mountains and evergreens.  Soon, the landscape will be blanketed in white snow with shimmering blues and greys. 

     
As painters, we are challenged and inspired by the effects of light on all these colors found in nature.  Everything has what can be referred to as a color note.  A color note is the combination of hue, value (light and dark) and intensity. 

  

REMEMBERING ROY G. BIV

Depending on how it is being effected by light at that moment, we can identify the color note of our subject. The first thing we can ask is where the color note lies in the spectrum of the rainbow of colors.  This is referred to as the hue.  Remember the acronym we learned in grade school, Roy G. Biv?  Red, orange, yellow...These are the color names, or hues. In this painting of the Gros Ventre range, the hue of the sky is blue and the grass is yellow-green.

Cloud Veil by Kathryn M. Turner 16 x 20 oil on linen. Available

If there is smoke in the air, it is sunrise or sunset, the sky would likely have a different hue.  Similarly, grass is not always green.  Later in the season, this same field is a honey wheat hue. Within each hue, there is a spectrum of value, intensity and temperature.

 

VALUE

When creating a painting, we must also consider the relative lightness or darkness orvalue of an area.  There is a saying in our industry- "Color gets all the credit, value does all the work." It is the relationships of values within a painting that depicts a sense of space and form. In this painting, there is not a broad range of hues represented, but the contrast between the light and dark values describe to the viewer  the shapes of the rocks and how the water streams through them.  

 

INTENSITY

 Each color note in a painting can be bright or dull. This refers to the intensity or relative strength of saturation of any given color.  As a general rule, colors in the distance appear lighter in value and less intense than when viewed close up.  In nature, colors are often less intense than the colors that come out of our paint tubes.  To obtain these subtle colors, we mix colors with their compliments in order to make their chroma  less intense.

The Refinement of Nature by Kathryn M. Turner 9 x 12 oil on linen

 TEMPERATURE

 Each hue also has a relative temperature.  Cool colors have a bias toward blue, green and violet. Warm colors have a bias toward red, orange or yellow.  This is how it is possible to have a "cool" red such as alizarin crimson or a 'warm blue' such as french ultramarine.

 

Everything around us is an array of color. The vivid light and color of the world is what compels us to paint. As we strive to continue to understand the world of color, we do our best to create artwork that moves in a similar way. 

Jackson Peak in October by Kathryn M. Turner 9 x 12 oil on linen