Dreaming of summers long ago

 

 

Ah, those lazy, hazy, crazy days of summer!  I press on with my summer camp project, maybe at a dreamier pace than I began with.  Sorting through old studio boxes, I came across a small 8" x 10" sketch I'd made years ago of a favourite spot we used to visit along the Squamish River.  

 

 

Back then, I had repeatedly tried to make a larger painting but was constantly stymied.  Still, this small study brings back so many memories of our cabin days in Upper Squamish.  Our own photos are in different boxes, but here's one from a hikers' website, from a slightly different vantage point.

 

Looking through dozens of on-line images of late 19th-early 20th century Adirondack paintings, I came across this one.  Titled "A Mountain River", it made a sure match with my small study for the next in my Empty Frame series.

 

The artist, John Lee Fitch, proved elusive.  I found only scant biographical material that said he was a painting pal of Winslow Homer and Homer D. Martin, the latter previously framed in my series kick-off.  I looked high and low for a photo of Fitch, or even a portrait painting by another artist – but no such luck.

 

Finally, I decided to "do an Adelard"  – to seek out photos of Fitch family members, hoping to find a model that might suggest how he looked.  These, too, were in little evidence, but then along came a handsome mid-20^th century Broadway star, Stephen Douglass Fitch – stage name, Stephen Douglass.

 

 

And then, the light dawned.  I knew this celebrity in my childhood!  Well, "knew" is perhaps too strong a term.   In the midst of his early career success, about 1951, Douglass was taking his own Adirondack summer vacation, staying for a while with his sister's family in our little town.  Her sons were my pals up the street, one of whom was even named for "Uncle Steve."  We watched the Broadway star from a respectful distance as he energetically mowed the family's lawn, singing at the top of his voice, "Daisy, Daisy, give me your answer, do."  And now I've found him on YouTube!!

 

I'd already decided that my next get-acquainted art medium would be watercolour and watercolour markers in the wild spirit of "Portrait Revolution."  Whether or not Uncle Steve was related to John Lee Fitch (one family was from Ohio, the other from Connecticut), he was chosen to play the lead role!  He was an actor.   He could handle this drama.

 

I rolled up my sleeves, carefully filled the watercolour "pens" and set to work.

 

 

Oh, no.  The outcome was SO bad, I didn't even stop to take a photo.  I painted most of it out and grabbed some intensely coloured oil pastels (they're like luscious crayons).

 

Did this help??

 

 

Cue the chorus:  NO!  I could almost hear Stephen Douglass saying, "WHEN is my regular makeup artist coming back from vacation??!"

 

Such a good-looking guy didn't deserve that – so just for old times' sake, I did a simple straight-forward "capture" with only two markers, one black and one white, on grey paper.  Here he is:  "Framed:  Stephen Douglass."

 

 

Then I shifted gears for a pencil sketch of the proposed landscape.

 

Here's a preliminary paint job, done two days later, in which I'm already making corrections -- which is okay; it's a process.

 

 

Another day or two more, and I realized I'd made a huge mistake – starting too dark.   It's a truism for most kinds of paint that it's easier to darken the lights than to lighten the darks.   

 

The dark/light shades in this landscape, as well as the range of blues and greens, would make a whole semester's study in Landscape 101.

 

So….here we are, the point at which I've declared, "I can't make this any better than it is, and I might make it worse."   Title:  "Mt. Ashlu from Anderson Beach," Empty Frame Series, copyright 2023.   For a mountaineer's view of the high peaks of Mt. Ashlu, see here.

 

 

There's always something to be learned.  My hassles with this current attempt demonstrated why I still have only a small study to show for this stretch along the Squamish River.  Well, as many have said, The Journey is the Destination.  Curiously enough, I found a reminder of this good counsel in the newspaper scrap I'd been using when I first set up the watercolour markers.  Just read it upside-down.

 

 

So – onward!  And while my beat-up gardening shoes aren't suitable for trekking either the Adirondacks or the Tantalus Range, my brand-new shoelaces bring a smile to my face.  Don't you love the colour combo?!?

 

 

 

 

 

 

Busting Out of the Frame

 

 

Continuing the Empty Frame Series, we're hooking up in this post with Thomas Worthington ("Worth") Whittredge.  He's another of those 19^th century American artists who lived out the stereotypical story of the rural, semi-educated kid who was driven to draw and paint and managed to do so despite family discouragement.  And paint he did – becoming a pal of Sanford Gifford, who kicked off this series, and earning fame in East Coast artists' circles.

 

How could I resist choosing this framed photo as the basis for my Worth Whittredge portrait?

 

 

Continuing my exploration of various artists' materials, I chose to work with fine-tipped art markers, as did this artist in "Portrait Revolution."

 

 I set to work, realizing I'd need to carefully scale up this framed portrait.

 

On the slick paper I'd intended just for a draft, these markers were a tricky medium – slick on the one hand, indelible on the other, and the merest accidental touch-down would leave a definite mark.  I sensed that "Worth" was finding it all a little boring, too, as he tried to refrain from squirming.

 

Here's the final portrait, "Framed (For the most part) – Worthington Whittredge".

 

 

Now, on to the Whittredge painting I selected – "The Woods", a close view quite unlike his better known expansive landscapes.

 

 

From my photo files, I found a somewhat comparable scene, taken along a trail in the woodlands just south of Deep Cove.

 

 

I'd been browsing through some of my cherished art books and decided that for summer camp fun, I'd work in a semi-abstract style reminiscent of one of my original heroes in paint, 20^th century American artist and teacher Edward Betts.

 

As I looked at the 1982 inscription inside the cover, I remembered feeling a pang then – that if I'd stayed in Illinois (though dying to bust out of it at the age of 18), I might have had him as a teacher.  He also had a great connection to Maine, and his book is full of his paintings and drawings (and other artists') of rocky shorelines and granite quarries.

 

I made a start and found it uninspiring.

 

 

Searching on-line, I came across this more relevant example of Betts' work – just some of it shown in part of  a frame!!  Was it meant to be?

 

 

Using acrylic medium, I papered over the Bad Betts with swirling rice paper.   I then cut up an old membership card to use, instead of a brush, to pull small puddles of paint across the heavily textured surface.

 

 

Here's the finale:  "Catching the Moonlight on Deep Cove Trail" – Empty Frame Series, copyright 2023.

 

 

I've always kept in mind the gist of Betts' answer to the question, "How do you know when a painting is finished?"  He wrote:

 

(It is important that you) "keep yourself attuned to what is happening on the painting surface.  You must always be ready to act in answer to what arises there, to recognize and grasp those elements that suggest the route to order and structure in the painting.  Once the control image has been found, the act of painting becomes more purposeful.  Finally, a point is reached when you find yourself fussing over unimportant little things, when you have said all you wanted to say, when nothing can be added or subtracted without upsetting the picture's overall organization.  At that point, your painting is finished."

 

Just add water

 

 

Officially into summer now, I'm sticking with the Adirondacks for the next little while.  With the "Empty Frame Series" introduced last time, I'll be exploring little known artists of the 19^th/early 20^th century who painted there – and at the same time, I'll have some summer camp fun by experimenting with different media.

 

This post's subject is Homer Dodge Martin, looking like a successful businessman here.

 

 

He died not only in obscurity, but in poverty, ill heath and blindness – yet his mellow landscape paintings are in the collections of many prominent American museums, including the Met, the Smithsonian and the Boston Museum of Fine Arts.

 

With a nod to Martin's 4-year sojourn in France, and a nudge from "Portrait Revolution",  I decided to do his portrait in intensely coloured pastel chalks.  It's about time I put a dent in my 35-year-old supply of these legendary art tools, most of them handpicked by me from huge trays at Sennelier Paris.

 

 

An important health protocol has evolved around the use of soft pastels.  Because they're essentially powdered pigment plus water, it can be harmful to work indoors without plenty of ventilation and even to directly contact some colours with bare hands.

 

 

My euphoria about reuniting with my colour trays led to a quick session outdoors in the cool air of morning – and a quick take on the subject, with an irresistible polka-dot tie. Here's "Framed – Homer Dodge Martin."

 

Now, on to his own painting, "Adirondack Landscape."   Was the "some old thing" that my mother discarded from the carved frame something like this?

 

 

From my photo archives, I found a suitable companion piece – the creek below Shannon Falls, just off the Sea to Sky Highway.

 

Thinking about landscape artists I like, I suddenly thought of Canadian artist David Milne, who has his own Adirondack connection.  I'd first fallen for him via a 2^nd-hand book purchase, and my enthusiasm was confirmed by a huge 2017 retrospective at the Vancouver Art Gallery.  Now I had the idea to try to replicate my mountain stream in his style.  As I browsed his paintings, I found…was it possible, this similar subject? -- "Black Waterfall."

 

What fascinates me about Milne's style is his use of pronounced line and blocks of colour – this looked oh-so-easy and self-evident, but it was not.  It's a very different manner of working, and I felt stumped at almost every turn, constantly asking, "What would David Milne do?"  It took me hours to get to this point, and then I stalled for three weeks. 

 

 

I was about to call it quits and then decided….what the heck, I'll plug in a dark background.  So here's the finale of "Milne Creek" – the Empty Frame Series, copyright 2023.

 

There is so much wrong with this finished piece, and it is so quirky, that I've actually become rather fond of it.  The challenge itself certainly gave me plenty of scope for reflection.

 

 

Summer in the Mountains

 

 

Since I first saw it decades ago, I've loved this painting – "Kindred Spirits" by 19^th century American landscape artist Asher B. Durand.  Without knowing its whole story, I felt that it extended a vast invitation – to explore a beautiful new world, in company with simpatico companions.

 

I've rarely painted landscapes although I regularly sketched outdoors in our old days of hiking, camping, paddling – and I have dozens of old sketchbooks to show for it.  As I begin to weed them out, I find memory fragments like this:

 

The note reads: "Hwy 99 – N. of Horseshoe Bay – waiting for the tow truck – COLD! – Jan 25/97"

 

These old sketches contributed to a convergence that sets my program for Summer 2023.  As I was working on my personal Remembrance of Things Past, I happened to pull out of a cluttered corner the lovely old mirror my mother bought as a framed painting in those olden days.  The mirror that then replaced the painting in the frame has gone ghostly with age so I papered it over for this shot:

 

 

Simultaneously, I'm receiving almost daily promotions for pricey art workshops at popular summer destinations -- sponsored by organizations that are busily reinventing themselves post-COVID.  

 

 

There's a long history to artists working in the Adirondacks – many of them, like Asher B. Durand, were formal or informal members of the Hudson River School.  As I followed internet trails, I came across dozens from the 19^th and early 20^th centuries – some of them well known, some almost forgotten.

 

Reflecting (ahem!) on my mother's mirror, I once asked her what the lovely frame held when she bought it from the antique dealer.  "Oh, some old thing," she said dismissively, "but I saw the frame would be perfect for a mirror."   Even then, as an inexperienced teenager, I wished I might have seen its original state.  Just imagine!

 

Well, this led me to my summer project called Filling the Empty Frame.  Are you ready?  Here's the plan:  Every two weeks, I'll choose a "vintage" artist and one of the paintings he made in the Adirondacks.  (Sorry.  They are all "he/him" – because Georgia O'Keeffe is just too spectacular for my purposes).  First, to continue my fascination with portraits, I'll produce that artist's portrait with a method chosen from this wild and wonderful book.  (You can read here about the book's origin in the author-artist's international project)

 

 

Next, I'll match the artist's painting to a photo or drawing I've previously made of a similar landscape. Then, maybe or maybe not in a similar style, I'll produce a landscape to the frame's size.  Ready?

 

Our first subject is Sanford Robinson Gifford.  "Never heard of him" – but he was an admired artist in his day and was among the group of New York City notables who founded the Metropolitan Museum of Art in 1870.

 

 

His connection to The Met suggests a conservative selection from "Portrait Revolution"...nothing too wacky yet.  I tried to loosen up a bit as in this sample from the book (on the right side, the largest of the lot) but otherwise played it pretty straight.

 

Moving right along with the work-in-progress.

 

 

And here's the final, "Framed – Sanford Robinson Gifford, 2023."

 

Now, here's Gifford's painting with a title confirming its connection to our theme, "A Twilight in the Adirondacks."

 

 A photo from Vancouver's nearby Trout Lake has a vague similarity.

 

 

 

But this view faces east – so I decided to borrow a radiant sunrise captured at the end of my block.

 

Here's an early stage.

 

And the grand finale, "A Trout Lake Sunrise" – Empty Frame series, copyright 2023.

 

On the basis of colour alone, I don't think my mother would have described this as "some old thing."  Maybe a better candidate for her description would be my scraped-back palette, awaiting the next go.

 

As I kick off this series, let Georgia O'Keeffe's words be the guide:--

"Whether you succeed or not is irrelevant; there is no such thing.  Making your unknown known is the important thing -- and keeping the unknown always before you."