Impossible to Draw

Brook in the Woods. 9x12 inches, vine charcoal, charcoal pencil and pastel on paper.  During a walk in the woods today at Field Farm, Williamstown, MA., I drew the view from a foot bridge, a view probably impossible to draw.

Still Full of Snow

Yesterday afternoon, I went walking in the woods at Hopkins Forest in Williamstown, MA. They're still full of snow.  And where there wasn't any snow, it was all mud.  But I'll take it.  It was quiet.  8x10 inches, gouache on mixed media paper.

A Vermont Cabin

 A Vermont cabin: a memento of a thoreauvian retreat.  9x12 inches, oil on linen panel.

Woody Stream

A stream enlivens a winter forest without snow: a view from a footbridge in the woods at Field Farm, Williamstown, MA.  Happy New Year!  8x10 inches, oil on panel.

'Evidence' Of Cows

 

Another painting, done a couple days ago, showing the gravel pit on the left and the uphill dirt road on the right.  This area in Williamstown, MA is used as a pasture but I only saw 'evidence' of cows for the first couple days.  They finally came out of the woods yesterday to examine more closely what a landscape painter was doing.  I didn't see them at all today.  9x12 inches, oil on panel.

Gully And Stream

 

The dirt tractor road crosses a gully by going down and then up.  At the bottom of the gully, a stream crosses the road.  On the other side of the gully is a large grassy field, and more corn fields.  The stream always reflects the sky.  

I read yesterday the following from Arctic Dreams by Barry Lopez: "Our first wisdom as a species, that unique metaphorical knowledge that distinguishes us, grew out of … an intimacy with the earth..."

8x10 inches, oil on panel.

Pushing The Impossible Drawing

So, I put on ample Deet spray on my shoes and pant legs, and stayed on the path this time, and I went back to the impossible drawing site.  Here's the only thing I hope I brought back.  Again, I am trying to capture the effect of light on the river and tree branches.  You can see that I did score the paper.  I put a piece of cardboard underneath first.  Otherwise all my sheets would end up scored.  9x12 pencil and charcoal on paper.

An Impossible Drawing

To break up the routine of posting Nice paintings and staying cooped up indoors, yesterday I went wandering in the woods.  I brought home a tick, which wasn't good, and this drawing.  I was trying to draw the impossible: the light reflecting off of the Green River.  All the branches were also reflecting light.  The next time I try this, I will score the paper first to see if I can get a better semblance of reflecting branches when I fill in the darks. 

From Yesterday and Beyond

From yesterday before the snow started falling: a 9x12 charcoal with touches of pastel drawing.

I've been reading a lot lately on Paul Cezanne and it hit me the other day that no one wonders why Sisley painted the way he did, or Monet painted the way he did, or Pissarro, and so on, but when it comes to Cezanne, the writers all try to figure out why he painted the way he did.  Richard Shiff wrote a book about it.  Rilke and Merleau-Ponty have interesting things to say about it.  Fortunately, I don't think it will ever be settled.

Snow Ground

There's another studio chair lined up, so to speak, though I probably won't get to the studio until Tuesday because of the snowstorm going on now, Sunday.  In the meantime, here's another 'looking into woods' drawing from the other day.   This view I found while wandering around not far from the back of my house.  In the summertime it's usually too overgrown there to think about poking around.  Besides it's the snow ground that makes everything so graphical.

Into the Woods

For this one I went into the woods, a 9x12 mainly charcoal and slight pastel drawing.  The only other creatures who had been there ahead of me were deer, fox and squirrels.

Blackboard

This 9x12 drawing is a reverse of yesterday's, more like a blackboard.  The snow that lined the branches didn't last long.

Whiteboard

Yesterday, we received more snow.  This view of the side of an incline is nearly in my back yard.  It is like a whiteboard with markings.

Band of Gray

I like the bands of gray that are common to winter landscapes.  Trying to make them work in a drawing is a challenge. This 9x12 is a backyard view.

Wild on the Edge

This set of tree trunks is set off quite a bit from the road but is attractively visible.  I had to walk across the icy corn field and then along a creek to reach it.  Probably was a bush once, and it has become wild on the edge.

Can't See

Standing on an incline looking into the snowy woods, I realize that, even though I strain to see, it's not possible to see what's in front of me, never mind draw it.

Two Drawings Looking Into Snow Woods

Two 9x12 drawings of one of my favorite topics: looking into snowy woods.  The one with the gully is on a dirt road up from where I live, and the other one is the view out of the window of my studio.  These drawings provide an opportunity to put down a lot of interesting marks that create space, look like something, and build and utilize a grid or scaffolding across the paper surface.

A Student of Pissarro

An 8x10 pastel that takes up an old theme: looking into woods.  The late afternoon, autumn sun gently touches a few branches, tree limbs and leaves.  The view is from the top of Sheep Hill.

My current reading is a biography of Cezanne by Jack Lindsay.  He recounts how a peasant, who had a way with words, watched both Cezanne and Pissarro painting side-by-side.  The peasant said Pissarro 'dabbed' [piquait] and Cezanne 'smeared' [plaquait].   Pissarro was an important teacher for Cezanne.  Here's Lindsay's quote of another painter Le Bail on Pissarro's painting advice, which Cezanne adopted and is still quite relevant:

"Seek out for yourself a type nature which suits your temperament.  One should observe forms and colours in a motif rather than drawing.  It's not necessary to accentuate the forms.  They can be realized without that.  Accurate drawing is dry and destroys the impression of the whole, it annihilates all sensation.  Do not make the bounding line of things too definite; the brushstroke, the right shade of colour, and the right degree of brightness should create the drawing.  With a mass the main difficulty is not to give it an accurate outline, but to paint what is to be found within it.  Paint the essential character of things, try to express it with any sort of means you like, and don't worry about technique.

When painting look for a clear object, see what lies to right and left of it, and work at all sections simultaneously.  Don't work bit by bit but rather paint everything at once, applying paint all over, with brushstrokes of the right colour and brightness, and observe in each case which colours are near the object.  Use small brushstrokes and try to set down your observations directly.  The eye should not be fixed on one point but should note everything, and in so doing observe the reflections which colours throw on their surroundings.  Work at the same time on sky, water, twigs and ground, bring on everything evenly and go tackling everything without stopping again and again, till you've got what you want.  Cover the canvas in one sitting and work at this till you can find nothing more to add.  Observe accurately the aerial perspective, from foreground to horizon, the reflection of sky and foliage. Don't be afraid of applying paint, make your work gradually more perfect.

Don't proceed in accordance with rules and principles, but paint what you see and feel.  Paint strongly and unhesitatingly.  For it's best not to lose the first impression ... one must have only one master: nature.  One must always ask her counsel."

Even in Winter

This oil painting has the same proportions as yesterday's, but is larger, 18x24 inches.  It also displays a new location for me, Constitution Hill in Lanesborough, MA.  This view is at the bottom of the hill.  The landscape painter Neil Welliver commented once how the woods are a "mess".  He was able to bring some order to the woods in his paintings, but to me the "mess" is inherent to the woods.  One can be standing in the woods, and looking, and looking, and still not be able to see clearly.  Even in winter the woods are a mess, but the ground, if snow covered, at least is much simpler.

Wintry Blues

An 11x14 oil on canvas view of a hidden stream at Field Farm north. The stream is just peeking out of the snow at the lower left, and its location is given away by the slope of the ground.  Most of the streams in the area are now hidden under a blanket of snow and ice.  The blue in the painting is grayer than it appears in the photo, at least on imac monitor that I'm using at the moment.