Following is the text for the “Member of the Issue” article which appeared in the August 2001 issue of North Light:

Beginnings

I’ve only recently begun painting full time after working as a secretary for almost 30 years.  When I found myself mentally mixing oil paint and smelling linen as I transcribed a legal brief, I knew it was time to make the change.

I primarily paint landscapes, and I especially enjoy outdoor painting at the scenic river overlooks around my adopted city, Cincinnati, Ohio.  The scenery here is a stark contrast to the flat and nearly treeless terrain of western Oklahoma, my childhood home, where everything seemed to be covered with red dust.  That early experience makes the green hills of Cincinnati seem quite exotic to me.

Tools and Techniques

I began painting outdoors with a “French” wooden easel, which quickly proved to be too heavy and cumbersome for hiking very far from a parked car or for traveling on a crowded city bus.  I moved to even smaller painting boxes and now prefer a pochade box which holds a 6” x 8” panel in its lid.  It has a leather strap into which you can slip your hand to secure the box as it rests in your palm, and is unobtrusive enough to use at an outdoor café table without attracting attention—or if it is raining, in a doorway, bus shelter or behind the wheel of the car.  The size of the panel is ideal for quick one-hour sketches.

I’ve also pared down the “essentials” for plein air painting so I can travel lightly.  I no longer carry heavy tubes of paint, but prepare my palette in advance with plenty of premixed paint in four values of each color.  Nor do I take along thinner, which can be messy or stinky if the container leaks.  Instead, I carry several brushes in each size and “assign” a color family of similar value to each, using a rag to wipe them between new mixtures.  If a little paint from the previous mixture “contaminates” the next stroke, it doesn’t look out of place.

For larger canvases, which are impractical to do in the field, I rely on my plein air paintings for color and mood, and take photographs to fill in the details.  The sounds of the push boats on the Ohio River, bird and insect song, or breezes rustling the tree leaves all contribute to the spiritual experience of painting and contribute to the look of a painting made outdoors in a way which makes it distinguishable from one done entirely in the studio.  A couple of artists who have influenced me are a British plein air painter, Trevor Chamberlain (Oils:  Ron Ransom’s Painting School Series and Oil Painting Pure and Simple) and Richard Schmid (Alla Prima:  Everything I Know About Painting, Stove Prairie Press).

I prefer to use commercially prepared wood panels for painting outdoors rather than preparing my own.  They are very cheap if purchased in quantity and leave more time for painting.  I tone them with burnt sienna, venetian red or another warm color a few days before going out.  Palette leftovers are also good for this.

I follow the advice of Trevor Chamberlain and begin every painting with the sky, because it establishes the mood and light on the scene.  If that part is accurate and everything else is keyed to it, the painting is cohesive and believable.  For the initial block-in, I use Wingel, which speeds drying time so that I don’t muddy the colors when going back in to correct shapes or values.  It’s thicker in consistency than Liquin and comes in a tube instead of a glass bottle, so it can be carried safely in a pocket.  The panels, loaded palette, painting knife and short brushes all fit into the pochade box.

Time Management

Time is hard to budget, especially when old friends call up to lure me away for lunch or shopping.  Because my studio is in my home and I am now my own boss, it is difficult for others to remember that I just can’t “take off” whenever I want.  My solution to this is to leave early so that I can be out painting as soon as the sun comes up—and I don’t have to tell anyone that I have a cell phone, either!  It helps to keep a time card on each large studio painting on which progress is not as easy to see as on a quickly executed work, so as to keep track of seemingly “lost” time.

As more people see my landscapes, I have begun to get requests from individuals for their favorite Cincinnati view.  I would never have believed two years ago that landscapes would be as popular as portraits for commissioned work.