Forever Young

We all can be young. Sure, our bodies age, and our minds ossify too - we become set in our opinions or bound to our routine. But, under this, youthful potential still sparkles.








It can be hard to see!








But every person has the capacity to grow, to learn, to expand, no matter his or her age. When I see this happening amongst my elders and betters, I feel hopeful: if they can do this, perhaps I can, too!








Ken Wiley has been a painter longer than I've been alive. He spent 34 years teaching art at North Country Community College, working both in oil and watercolor paints, though in recent years he has focused more on the latter.








Shown above is "Playing Misty", featured in Ken's new show, "Awakening", at the Adirondack Artists' Guild in Saranac Lake. This painting exemplifies many of the beauties inherent to watercolor. The paper almost glows with sunlight, while the darker foreground trees stand solid and real. Ken manipulates the medium to take advantage of all its potential, while - master that he is - making any misstroke seem unthinkable. Like an accomplished dancer, he makes his art seem the easiest, most natural thing in the world.







A few months ago, however, Ken decided to challenge himself in a new way. He bought a set of acrylic paints, and began to experiment. Some of these discoveries are also featured in this show: of the 20 works on display, eight are acrylic. Reproduced below is a piece titled "Autumn is Here: Riverside Park, SL".














With his practiced eye, Ken studies and celebrates the sharp contrasts of sunrise and shadow. This bold geometry draws the viewer in to the inviting benches which line the waterfront. Beyond the benches, look: mist rises from Lake Flower, fading to reveal the trees beyond. It is indeed autumn, when the warmer lake water is condensed by the colder air, foretelling weather to come.

Note the mist. Look again at the watercolor piece - also a misty, watery scene. Acrylic paint is waterbased, and can mimic many watercolor effects - many of the same techniques can be applied to each. But in these two paintings, Ken has used each medium in a distinct way. Rather than trying to bleed or wash the acrylic paint over his support, as if it were watercolor, the artist has maintained its unique character. The mist, though not solid, is not translucent either, for the most part. It rises and coils from the lake as a distinct entity, catching light, twisting upward, and finally dissipating.












Despite Ken's decades of work in watercolor and oils, he has studied this modern paint carefully, learning to work within it on its own terms. Rather than trying to force it to behave like the paints he already knew, he respected it enough to work in harmony with it, developing new approaches to take advantage of its own tendencies. He embraced this new opportunity. You can see more images from this show through NCPR's online gallery: click here.












I only hope I can remain as open to novelty as I age. Always a teacher, Ken instructs neophytes like me just by allowing us glimpses of his youthful, artistic spirit.

Garden, Forest, and Paint

On a recent morning in my garden, I was struck anew by the tenacity of life bursting forth from winter's grip. As I turned fragrant soil, uprooted stubborn weeds, moved long-legged perennials, and as earthworms and milipedes scuttled away - I had to marvel at life's abundance.

Two local painters who also study the natural life of the North Country are Lee Ann Sporn and Meg Bernstein - both of whom have been subjects of previous posts in the blog. (Click here and here to read some of these.)

Now, the two have mounted a show together in the Cantwell Room of the Saranac Lake Free Library. They have spent the last year visiting the Debar Wilderness area, together and individually, and painting their observations of it.

Each artist works in both watercolor and acrylic, and though each has a distinct style, they harmonize. Lee Ann's watercolor pieces are in the tradition of botanical illustration - she is a biologist, after all, and her paintings are enriched by her careful examination of life's pathways and mechanisms. Her acrylic pieces, however, feature a looser approach: still clear, but more exuberant - perhaps a bit more playful than scientific.

In this exhibit, she pairs the watercolors and acrylics of similar subjects together; for example, above is her acrylic rendering of a jack-in-the-pulpit cluster; below, she depicts a single plant in watercolor. My photos do not do justice to the originals, but perhaps you can see how the watercolor features precise detailing, while the acrylic, though still carefully observed, has looser lines, a greater sense of playful energy.





Meg's pieces take the energy and playfulness even further. Her acrylic paintings remind me of a time I saw original oils by Vincent Van Gogh; the paint swoops with its own ideas, thick and sensuous, leaving luxuriant brushstrokes to hint at the hand behind the work. It's thrilling to see, and inviting to ponder.

Meg's pieces in this show are all landscapes; trees commune with clouds, while colors dance from water to mountain to sky and beyond. The watercolors, too, share the force and vibrancy of our lush North country.






Life is: celebrate! Enjoy art, and make some of your own! For inspiration, dig around in a garden, or walk through some woods, or go see Lee Ann's and Meg's work in Saranac Lake. Or - all of the above!

Growing Art

Change is inevitable.

Look at a newborn, compared to a toddler; consider the toddler alongside a teenager.

Those of us past the age of such dramatic developmental growth still change in one way or another; and while the body continues to mature, a mind open to to quests and experiments can grow in vital, energizing ways.

Some time ago I wrote about Lee Ann Sporn, a scientist and artist, whose powers of observation and interpretation remind me of the great Swedish botanist Carl Linnaeus. I included an image of one of Lee Ann's botanical watercolors, a study of springtime trillia.

How artists can change and grow! Reproduced above is one of Lee Ann's recent works!

One obvious difference is a change in media: Lee Ann adventurously broke away from watercolor and began working in acrylic. However, acrylic is enough like watercolor that, had she chosen, she could have continued in the precise, carefully observed style of her earlier pieces.

Instead, look at what she has been doing! Without sacrificing a strong sense of realism, her work is now much more emotional, more expressive. The sweeping strokes of color, the dynamic energy, the freedom of line - these remind me much more of the Group of Seven than of any scientific illustration!

Although this is but a copy of a photo of a painting, you can still see how Lee Ann has layered her colors - in the lower left side, the grain of the canvas is yet visible, revealing the burnt sienna undercoat. This is a technique for imparting warmth and depth to a painting, espoused by the multi-media artist and teacher Meg Bernstein. In fact, Lee Ann just spent a semester in Meg's Acrylic Painting Class at Paul Smiths College (where Lee Ann herself teaches science).

To paraphrase, with suitable apologies to Shakespeare: "What a piece of work is a human! How noble in reason - how infinite in faculty!"

For just as the infant synthesizes perception into thought and language, so as adults can we learn new forms of expression. Lee Ann's latest work is every bit as expressive as her earlier pieces - but she is learning, and using, a whole new language!

Winter Treat

Have you ever gazed upon an Adirondack lake, on a windy summer's day, and seen how the deep, cool darks cavort under the sun-sparkled surface? It's a visual oxymoron which generates powerful tension.

The exuberant painting above, titled "Blossoms", captures that electric energy. Saranac Lake artist Margo Nagle (who is also my mother) uses luxuriant acrylic paint to describe flowers growing at the edge of a windy Adirondack lake. My photo does not do justice to the nuanced color and complex texture of the original. But I hope you can see how the warm pinks of the blossoms are echoed in flecks of the darkening water, while the leaves twist and dance in the fresh air.

This piece is part of the 28th Annual Paint and Palette Society Winter Show currently hanging in the Cantwell Room of the Saranac Lake Free Library. The show includes thirty-four pieces by eight local artists (myself included) in a range of media. Watercolor, oil paint, and soft pastel are showcased in addition to acrylic; Louise Plosilla also paints with enamel on copper, and Jane Harris uses a technique called tinsel art, with which I was previously unfamiliar.

The Paint and Palette Society is a small group of Saranac Lake artists who have met regularly to learn and paint together since 1955. This current exhibition features a wide variety of subject matter and of style. There are still lifes reminiscent of the Dutch Masters, landscapes both rural and urban, pieces bordering on the abstract, and more.

If you have previously seen Paint and Palette shows, you know what a treat they are. If you are unfamiliar with the group, you owe it to yourself to become acquainted. This show hangs through January 4th.

Traditional Value

A photographer friend and I recently chatted about the value of learning film photography in this digital age.

Why should one bother learning how to develop and print film, when Photoshop puts image manipulation tools at one's fingertips? Digital imagery has improved over the past several years, to the point that many professional photographers use nothing else. Why master obsolete technology?

Because, we concluded, while both forms can create all kinds of art, knowledge of both deepens one's understanding of each. A good darkroom technician will have a more nuanced visual understanding than a software user; conversely, a digital photographer might bring a sense of spontaneity and freedom to the more technically oriented approach of some film shooters.

This is true, I find, across disciplines: innovations are often wonderful, but tradition can also still prove invaluable.

Acrylic paint is a relatively new medium (developed in the late 1940's) which has unique working properties of its own, but which also imitates many of the qualities inherent to watercolor and oil paints. You can certainly be an excellent painter in acrylic without ever touching another medium. However, if you develop proficiency in either oil or watercolor, it will enrich your understanding of acrylic. It might even improve your technique.

The same principle applies in literature. Paradoxically, the strict form required of a sonnet stimulates creativity, thus enabling a poet to move more expressively into less structured outlets.

In music, too: the best jazz improvisers are often those who have mastered formal music theory and musicianship.

I am not saying that one must master the sonnet to write good poetry, or play a concerto to be a jazz musician; I am asserting, however, that fluency in a more traditional format can enhance capacity in the innovative.

To go as far as possible, a flight of the imagination should have well-built wings!

See "Written in Paint"

Opening tonight at the Adirondack Artists' Guild is "Written in Paint", a new show by Jeanne Danforth, first prize winner of the Guild's annual juried show last winter.

It is fun, for me at least, to have a chance to enjoy the work of an artist with whom I was previously unfamiliar. Jeanne is quite versatile, both in medium and subject, though the overarching impression is of vibrant rural life.

Of the 21 pieces on the wall, nearly half are watercolors. The rest span several media: oil paint, pen & ink, Conte crayon, and soft pastel. Although the show flyer does not indicate this, in looking carefully at the artworks I wondered if some incorporate mixed media.

Her loose style verges on the unrestrained. Incidental splashes and strokes are incorporated into an overall composition - or not: sometimes they are allowed to stand as mute testaments to the artist's ebullient surety. Juxtaposed with these are precise delineations of shape, texture, and expression.

Birds and mammals seem near the artist's heart - as they are to mine. Beasts of one sort and another are amongst my own favorite subjects, and Jeanne appears to share this delight. From fly-wary bovines to curious kids, cozy nestlings to migrating flocks, she examines the emotional landscapes of our fellow critters.

Plant life is also studied carefully, as are human structures. Flowers, ferns, barns, and chicken wire all catch light and shine back feeling in Jeanne's paintings.

As I have written before, the members of the Guild know how to throw a reception. If you are in or near Saranac Lake tonight, do stop by - congratulate Jeanne on her splendid show, and socialize. Who knows? There might even be brownies!

Grounds for Watercolor

So, back to grounds.

If you are working in watercolor paints or related media, you want to work on paper. (There is a product called watercolor canvas, but it is considered a bit exotic. I have never tried it.)

However, not all papers are created equal, and your choice of paper will make a world of difference in your work. Your two primary variables are weight and texture. (There are others, but let's keep things simple for now; these two are the most basic.)

"Weight" refers to - well - how heavy paper is. Specifically, if you stack 144 full sized sheets of this paper, what will that stack weigh? This weight is then used to identify individual sheets of any size. Thus, we refer to "50 lb paper" or "70 lb paper", and this gives an idea of what it will feel like, how it will perform.

Watercolor paper should be heavy so that when it gets wet, it won't fall apart or do strange things. Generally, the lightest will be 90 lb paper; 300 lb paper is cream of the crop. The basic standard is between these, at 140 lb.

Your other concern, texture, isn't as confusing as it may sound. Watercolor paper is usually classified as "hot pressed", "cold pressed", or "rough". All this means is, "smooth", "medium", or - you guessed it - "rough".

Hot pressed paper has a very smooth texture. Cold pressed paper is pretty bumpy. Rough paper is extremely bumpy.

Most watercolorists I know use cold pressed paper. They find the moderately coarse texture beneficial for holding the paint, and not so bumpy as to obscure subtlety of expression. However, artists who are rendering very detailed or intricate paintings - botanical illustrations, say - will often prefer the hot pressed, very smooth paper.

I always encourage people to physically touch different kinds of paper, when possible, before deciding what to try. Better still is to sit down and play with a few different types to see what suits your style.