
I went out last Saturday afternoon to see if I could rescue a painting that been stuck. I had done all my underdrawing and underpainting in November (in three or four sessions), but felt as though I didn’t know exactly how to resolve various issues: painting wiry trees in Southern California, with a new-to-me palette of colors.
In the mean time, I had found relative success by painting the tree next to it. Its form was simpler to grasp. It’s gesture, too. When you spend a few hours on location in each session, noticing how the light falls as the afternoon progresses, seeing how the shadows group as they define the foliage, you build an internal image repository of what it is you want to say. That light, there. Even though no particular stroke can ever define it: the effect is cumulative.
So I decided to retry the first tree. It has six main trunks or branches which intertwine, and it’s not always possible to see what is what. But if–as the artist–you know what is what, then you can place a spontaneous splotch of light accurately. If not, then not.
So I had already done my homework, the question was whether I could breathe some life into my ugly duckling. A palette of cadmium orange, titanium, ultramarine blue, cadmium red, cadmium yellow light and raw umber did the trick. Four bright colors earthed by umber, lightened with a strong titanium white, as needed.
I’m happy.















