Côtes de Bergerac

 

Côtes de Bergerac 11x14

After spending a month in the south of France with close friends, painting en plein air for a number of those days, I feel refreshed and relaxed and ready for the change of season that is upon us.  There is something about the countryside in that region (Lot-et-Garonne and Dordogne) that appeals to my spirit; I enjoy driving around absorbing the view endlessly.  The land has been cared for by a sensitive people over the centuries, and it shows in the land divisions, the artistry of the architecture, and a respect for natural beauty.  It's a far cry from the American rural landscape of broken down cars and abandoned appliances that blemish the view.

Throw in some good wine, excellent meals and shared laughter, and life is good on the other side of The Atlantic.  

The Shady Side of the Island

 

The Shady Side of the Island, 16x20 oil on canvas

In the blistering inferno that may regrettably be our new normal in the Pacific Northwest, I seek refuge in cooler ideas.  What can be more soothing in the heat than the deep shade of these towering trees on Goat Island?  

Early Summer

 It seems that climate change has gifted Oregon with an early summer, though I think most Oregonians are reveling in this sunny treat with a sense of foreboding, because the less it rains now, the more likely we will have another long summer of wildfires and smoke.  Still, who can resist the beauty of a fecund land exploding in lush splendor.

This below is a small painting done as a study for a possible larger piece.  It is the old boat ramp at Maddax Woods in West Linn, the rails defunct now, but a remnant of a time when larger boats were built at this site and launched into the channel this side of Goat Island.  (The channel was once called Clackamas Rapids for some reason, but there are no sign of rapids here now.)

A study of a small copse of birch trees off Rosemont Road.  The painting is somewhat bittersweet, not in and of itself, but because it exposed a failing in me that I had not recognized: I recently heard someone use the word copse pronouncing it like the TV show "Cops".  I had encountered the word often in reading, but never in spoken language, and in my mind had always pronounced it "copes".  I think there are a lot of words like that, ones we understand from reading but do not use when speaking, and I fear now that I am probably mispronouncing many of them to myself.  I know I am not alone; once I heard my wife use the word albeit, but she pronounced it as if it was German ("all-bite") and I didn't know what she was talking about.  When she spelled it out, I said "you mean 'all-be-it'?"  It isn't being wrong that bothers me, it's being wrong my entire life and not realizing it.  Like trying to paint or play golf, just another lesson in humility.

And then a couple of attempts that didn't make it:

Luscher Hills in Springtime

 

Luscher Hills 16x20

It has taken me years to realize that I can sometimes create the effect of what is real by using rough and careless brushwork instead of careful and tedious application of paint.  Some effects require specific techniques, like using glazes to achieve the look of stream beds, but sometimes just a crazy scrubbing with the paintbrush can do what deliberate effort cannot.  

Spring Brings New Light

 

Cloudbreak on the Willamette, 12x16

It's time to get outdoors to paint, and I hope to be more consistent this year in forming a weekly practice. Even better would be able to paint while traveling, but that has always seemed nearly impossible to fit in. 

Birkett Mills - Penn Yan, New York 16x20

While back in the Finger Lakes Region doing a property investigation, I became enamored of this group of old buildings, Birkett Mills, the oldest continually operating buckwheat mill in the United States.  We only had one day there, but the countryside was beautiful, with rolling hills and old established farms, clean and orderly.  There were vineyards and lakeside homes and so much to explore that we will be going back again this summer to spend a week there.

Sunrise on the Willamette, study

Spring Fields

 

Sometimes when I throw paint down quickly, even over an old used panel like this, it seems there might be a painting in there somewhere if I can then take the time to develop it.  

Quick Sketch with a Big Brush

 

Fanno Creek Tangle 8x8

Having been kept from painting for months now, I tried to force a quick session to see if my brushes had forgotten how to paint.  I'm not sure what my verdict is, but I do know I need to make some time, if I can only coax my right brain into taking the reins again.  Too much business is bad for art, I guess.

Regarding another painting, South Yamhill by my painter friend, David Richardson:  This warm and moving painting has hung over my hearth in every home I have lived in for the past thirty years.  I have considered it the soul of my home, really, central to the feeling of comfort and security.  Just around Thanksgiving of 2019 another dear friend, Maggie, asked if she could borrow it for her dining room for a while, and reluctantly, I agreed.  I was concerned about what might happen to my sense of peace and safety if such a central piece was removed.  I certainly did not expect what followed: pandemic, wildfires, insurrection, ice storms...  At long last I insisted I needed to get it back where it belonged, and a couple of weeks ago it was returned to its home.  Let's hope this might help get the world back in order.

South Yamhill 4'x5' by David Richardson