Recent work- Yosemite and Napa Valley

Lots of stock from the last few years is gone after the sale (almost 25 pieces sold during the January show!), and after a busy February with work (and very little painting), I’ve finally been back at it over the last few weeks, painting a day or two during each work week, and a day on the weekend as well.

I like to work on multiple paintings at once (a number of which didn’t even make it to this post, I was so dissatisfied with them). I let one sort of piggy back on the other and act as a chain, leading me to the next. Sometimes these playful, disposable pieces just free me up and keep me from fussing too much with the “main piece”. Alternately, sometimes the playful one comes out much better than the main piece, because I accept what it is offering, instead of pushing it so hard, the way I sometimes do with a subject I have expectations for. Either way, I often don’t finish them both on the same day. When I get into these batches of paintings, I like having one “on the easel”, half done. I don’t have to start from scratch each day, but instead have something to draw me in and get my engine going. It also keeps my mind in the work, even when I’m off doing other things. The pieces are individual, of course, but the work comes in batches, like little linked projects.

In this way, sometimes it’s nice to explore similar subjects in quick succession— not necessarily always the same composition (although, yes, sometimes that too), but just similar themes. Below are some examples of the exploratory process for a series of Napa Valley Mustard paintings and the beginning of a series of Yosemite paintings. The compositions change, but there are similarities that pull you from one into another— you get better at painting mustard, certain solutions for painting grape trellises mature, certain color relationships repeat themselves when you’re painting Yosemite Falls more than once, etc. These solutions and problems lead you from one painting into another, and make certain failures more palatable, because the failures lead… if not always to successes, atleast to the mind exploring different solutions that need to be tested. Thus the desire to paint the subject again.

These two are my earlier pieces, after stepping back in after a few weeks off-

Each is okay at best. There are little things I like, but I’m too far from my subjects, and my shapes aren’t overlapping enough. I almost immediately set to doing a notan, to explore zooming in, and got this—

Not perfection, but better, in my eyes. Often, I have to work my way into a painting, like exploring in a jungle with a hatchet! Hahaha! I paint it once, and if I’m not satisfied then I think, “Well, what was I really after? What’s the subject?” And my dissatisfaction leads to greater mental clarity— what’s my focal point? what are my “darlings” that I can trim away for greater effect? what contrasts are too strong and need to be muted to focus on what’s most important? What color relationships need to be shifted to tell the right story?

Once I got doing notans, I was off to the races. I love this preliminary thinking process. They’re small, but not tiny. Perhaps 4x6 or 5x7. They’re more than a thumbnail, but different from a value sketch. They take me about 20 minutes or so. I use my Pentel brush pen, and then go back in with white gouache as I think my way into potential solutions. I don’t think they universally help me make better paintings, but they definitely help me make paintings with fewer technical mistakes. The notan helps me understand how I’m going to build things.

By the time I got to this piece, I felt like I had a handle of the Napa series. I always knew the building was a strong subject. The real conern was whether I could make those brightly lit wires stand out through negative painting or not—

The notan convinced me I could. it also showed me how the vines growing up the shadow side of the building had to be recessive. The contrast can’t compete with the lit side. I liked this piece, and had a fun time with the wet into wet vine, trees, and grasses. This piece definitely came out of the other Napa pieces, and the issues I had with some of them.

I did this piece Yosemite next. I’ve painted this a number of times in the past, back in 2018. I’m planning on painting a full sheet of it, and wanted to reacquaint myself with the details before going big.

I had such a good time, I did notans for two more pieces soon after—

I love Bridal Veil Falls, but it’s on the south side of the valley, and that can make getting good lighting on it difficult. Doing the notan for it (the first one, on the left) convinced me to set it aside— the falls are actually in shadow, but they dissappear in the notan unless kept white. This speaks to a compositional issue, in my opinion. There won’t be strong enough contrast to make it sing, if I put it back in shadow the way it really is. Instead, I went with the afternoon view of Yosemite Falls, where the waterfall is itself actually casting a shadow, and the moutain “turns a corner” on the far right. The values make it cleare that it’ll read correctly.

In the end, I think it was the right choice. I liked pushing the warm-combo, to try and get that cliff face to glow.

An interesting thing to note was how pale and washed out it seemed before I dropped the foreground trees in. The trees were a necessity, and the painting had to work as a complete unit. There was some doubt in there, but I’ve had to learn to trust the process and push through all way to the end. What’s tough is sometimes they don’t come out anyways. But I’ve definitely had paintings that have surprised with when the last 10-20% goes in. Those darks can be really really critical. I’ll paint this one again, full sheet. I’m glad I trusted the process, and my wife. :) Sometimes, you’ve gotta have some faith!