Farmer's Market Figs

Figs are irresistible for painters. The subtle ribbing is a wonderful challenge to render. And the color is so rich. I couldn't wait to capture the blue/grey of the fig on the right. It has that powdery coating like a blueberry when it's at the untouched-and-dusty stage of ripening.

Painting in oils, you're supposed to get in the darks first - it's much harder to darken light colors. But I was anxious to find that dusty color so I tried starting with the lighter tones.

Live and learn. The initial light blue was not nearly dusty enough (too bright, too dark, too colorful). It needed neutrals and deeper tones for comparison.

 

These figs are sitting on a satiny silver surface. Starting with the neutral grey of the metal, probably would have helped. However muted, they will look more colorful against grey - it's all relative!

Here's the "final" version of "Standing Figs." I might tweak a bit later when it's dry, but I'm pretty happy as it is right now.

"Standing Figs" ©2013 Dorothy Lorenze

Creativity and Kindness

Since I started this journey to become a painter I have met some of the most amazing, creative, wise, and supportive people! The generosity of artists who share their knowledge and their enthusiasm has been fantastic. From family who are always cheering, to internet "friends" and artists who meet virtually or locally and share art info, to studio and plein air pals who make painting dates - you really keep me going. Thank you!

The experience of being with 12 painters at Julian Merrow Smith's plein air workshop was a perfect example. Part of the magic was thinking about nothing but making art for a week. But the other part of the magic was the excitement and good will of a dozen artists of varied backgrounds and abilities who wanted nothing less than for everyone to succeed. Every artist should experience this!

Sure we were "on vacation" and the south of France is not too shabby, but it was a slightly daunting adventure to travel so far and stay with people we'd never met, learn a new painting genre with a new painting teacher and basically be little fish in a big (unfamiliar) pond. Happily, there was a built in support system of good people and honest critiquing. Learning and improving was cheered by all.

So, cheers to all of you who support artists - you make it possible for us to take that leap of faith! Believe me, we need and appreciate your positive energy!

In the spirit of a leap of faith ... and inspired by wild poppy fields ... I've taken another stab at dealing with red petals. The field of wild poppies was so beautiful it could make you cry. Unfortunately, my painting of the field almost made me cry as well. I need to have another go at it, but for now, these poppies are making me smile!

These beauties are from the farmer's market in Charlotte where I am happily visiting another group of highly positive and supportive art lovers! (One of whom once said "Gramma's are kind of magical" - how's that for instilling positive energy!)

Persevering Poppies ©2013 Dorothy Lorenze

I'm happy to say that Julian Merrow Smith has just announced two more plein air workshops this fall. If you want to be immersed in creativity and kindness, sign up and spend a week painting in Provence with Julian! You'll never forget it.

Painting in Provence #1

I've been very much away (from reality and life as I know it) but have finally returned to earth after a heavenly week painting in Provence with Julian Merrow Smith.

It was an incredible experience and there is so much to say! I had all good intentions of writing while there but we were totally immersed in painting all day! Afterwards we critiqued, talked, ate, drank local wine and ... sang!
Hey, "one does what one must" to alleviate the discomfort of standing all day in the elements.

They say plein air painting can be an extreme sport and now I understand why: we fought the cold, wind and rain; hiked through waist high grass and climbed rugged, rocky, hilly terrain - all to find the perfect vista to paint (well, the rocky, hilly, terrain might have been the stone path to the  kitchen where I made tea, but you get the idea).

Some of the challenges:

• Paint fast before the light changes! (you may recall that my "3-hour" pear painting actually took 3 days).
• Paint green that doesn't look like kermit the frog, colored with basic crayola 16-crayon box green.
• Forget/reverse still life thinking: objects get lighter as they recede in landscapes.
• Don't freeze (I packed for spring - apparently more experience with traveling is required) 

In an effort to get complex greens, my first painting looked like mud (or the related French word "merde")

Looks more like the rainy, wintery day we were battling than the lovely, spring weather we had hoped for. Although, if you look closely there is a hint of poppies blooming between the rows.

I was discouraged but determined and set forth to conquer green! These are better greens and it's less muddy, but the trees look like the they were made by Lionel for train tables. Sigh.

I hung in there and will post some other/better(?) paintings soon. 

Plein air painting is HARD. Unlike still life painting, you don't get to position the light source and place the objects ever-so-precisely where you like. You have to work fast and that damn sun moves while you're trying to keep consistent light on the canvas and palette! Not to mention the unpredictable weather!  It's frustrating, exhausting and exhilarating all at the same time.

Is there any wonder we drank wine at the end of the day?!

Seriously, this was such an amazing trip - with great instruction by Julian Merrow Smith, astounding organization by Ruth Philips and the most awesome, energetic and supportive group of intrepid painters focused on a totally artistic experience for all! Even with the challenges, frustrations and difficulties, I never once resorted to collapsing on my "fainting couch" although clearly, it was tempting!

Did I mention that we stayed at La Madelene, a 12th century priory transformed to a Country French B&B?

No? Well, as I said, plein air painting is a rugged, extreme sport. Sort of.

Oh, it was a thoroughly wonderful week! So much to cherish, so stay tuned for more tales from my Provence painting adventure!