Today's work was incredibly difficult. I struggled with this painting for hours in the direct hot sun. I finally scraped and scumbled the paint together and added a few quick strokes before I felt that it was finished, which was risky because I almost lost the whole painting in that process after hours and hours of work... still, I enjoyed the process of painting this one, and feel lucky to be outside all day looking at such a view. I'm exhausted and have a bit of heat exhaustion. Time to go find a wonderful seafood salad at the deli at the local COOP, and a bottle of wine.
This is the view of Monteriggione that inspired today's painting. To get the painting, I drove up a little dirt road way back in the wheat fields, the kind of dirt road that has weeds scraping the bottom of the car and you wonder if you are going to get stuck. I set up, then had lunch and waited for an irate farmer to come and kick me out. Noone came, so I did the painting. I had all of Monteriggione completely to myself, a sunflower field at my back, and wheat fields to my fore. Tomorrow's plan is to go back to Monteriggione and paint another view from the foot of the hill looking towards the ancient city.
Day 2 of the trip here in Tuscany, and I am getting into a rhythm. The prey today, the medieval walled town of Monteriggione, about 15 kilometers from Siena. I saw it yesterday from the setting of a wheat field, with the town way off in the distance. The painted view is identical to what could have been seen 800 years ago. You can see a wheat field bathed in searing sunlight in the foreground, with the walled town in deep shade under an approaching storm. I just missed getting soaked.
From Wikipedia: "Sitting on a small natural hillock, this completely walled medieval town in the Siena Province of Tuscany was built in the 13th century by the overlords of Siena to command the Cassia Road running through the Val d'Elsa and Val Staggia just to the west of Monteriggioni...Modern day artists are just as impressed: Monteriggioni, so evocative of the Medieval period, has been featured in a number of films and television commercials.
I spent a few hours making this painting on site, peacefully hidden away in an olive grove and enjoying the scenery while battling insects and hot sun. This painting is one of this week's Work of the Week. I was way out in the hills, on a dirt road. Behind me was the town of San Gimignano, but I liked this vista better. In the distance, I could hear a large group of Italians singing and laughing while they celebrated some event (a wedding?). Lovely day.
I'm on my way to Siena, Italy for a three week stay to do intensive painting and photography. I have all of my oil painting gear, my bicycle, and a car and will be exploring the landscape and famous light in Tuscany to see how it affects my artwork. Today I bought a super watercolor set, cotton paper, and some great watercolor brushes so that I can better lay down some color sketches of the landscape. The palio figures prominently in my plans as well.
My choice of coming to Siena has nothing at all to do with the wine and food available here. No, prosciutto, olive oil, and pizza have had no bearing on my plans at all.
I'll be staying with my friend Leonardo and his wife in their nice house just outside of Siena. Look here for regular updates of the sketches and paintings from bella Italia!
A trip back home to DC was exhilirating (and by our frigid Dutch standards, tantalizingly warm). Clair and Michele threw a party our first night back and many of our neighborhood friends came by to visit. Fantastic. I don't know what we celebrated: spring, life, wine, the company of good friends, or something of all of the above.
After years of drought, Clair's moss circle in the back yard has come back into full bloom. Somehow, this image of Clair and Michele dancing in it captures the evening perfectly.
We have some good weather in the Hague, and it's time to work on big abstract paintings outdoors. I've just received delivery of 10 100 x 120 cm (3 by 4 feet) canvases, time to get busy.
The hazards of working flat and outdoors include having the paintings get stepped on. Sometimes, this hazard results in better paintings.
This week I am staying in the beach town of Noordwijk on the North Sea in Holland, and am participating in an outdoor painting festival with 75 artists. The rules of the festival dictate realism. (This will be a welcome break for some, including my cranky cat who apparently despises my abstract work.) We show our work collectively in a central location, and on sunday everything gets auctioned off. There are lots of nice people, and the town is beautiful, it will be fun. Time to get busy painting.
I told my good friend Clair that my aging, 18 year old cat was having issues. While we were out of town, the cat pooped in my studio next to a big abstract painting lying flat on the floor.
Clair suggested that perhaps the cat was just making a comment on the art. I responded that if this was the case, I was very lucky that he hadn't made a more emphatic critique directly on the canvas itself. "Why?," Clair asked, "How would you tell the difference?"
I guess not everybody likes the abstract direction of my recent work.
The agricultural heartland of Holland is a super place to bike and is known as "the Green Heart of Holland." We took the train to Gouda, then biked to Oudewater, a sixteenth century town with original architecture. Since you can only drive to it, there are no tourists. But it is the bike ride getting to Ouedewater that is truly magical. The big open fields with cows offer great views. The small lanes with tree lined canals have and 17th and 18th century farmhouses with thatch roofs.
Yesterday I loaded up a paintbrush with oilpaint and stand oil, and slung it at a canvas so hard that I almost threw out my elbow. I never know what the painting will look like until it is finished.
Alex, visiting from the states, joined me at the International Art Club at the Hague to do some drawing from a live model. This is a beautiful sketch he made, and is the first non-technical drawing this mechanical engineer has made in eight years.
Today's work was incredibly difficult. I struggled with this painting for hours in the direct hot sun. I finally scraped and scumbled the paint together and added a few quick strokes before I felt that it was finished, which was risky because I almost lost the whole painting in that process after hours and hours of work... still, I enjoyed the process of painting this one, and feel lucky to be outside all day looking at such a view. I'm exhausted and have a bit of heat exhaustion. Time to go find a wonderful seafood salad at the deli at the local COOP, and a bottle of wine.
