Lavender and Hay Bales, Sault, Provence – oil on panel, 7 x 5 inches
This was one of my last paintings from Julian’s workshop in Provence last month.
As usual, despite spending ages deciding which view to paint, I made a few mistakes during set up.
The main mistake I made with this one was having too much shade on the panel. The problem with that is that your colours will look darker to you as you put them down than they really are. So the tendency is to paint too light.
So I would have expected to have some major value problems with this one.
But the more I’ve thought about this after I got back home, the more I think that the reason I didn’t is that I have a fairly well developed mental model of the colour space of paint in my head.
What I mean by that is:
- I know pretty much the range of light to dark that I can reach
- I know pretty much the range of chroma I can reach at different hues
- And I have a good idea how to mix colours in every area of the colour space, regardless of what tube colours I have on my palette
I’ve developed that mental model through a lot of patient practice. Matching colours exactly and painting cubes and spheres may not be the most interesting way to spend your easel time, but it does teach you a huge amount about colour and light rather quickly.
Having that model of the colour space of paint internalised meant that I knew that the lightest parts of the hay bales were going to be the lightest parts of the painting, so I had to establish the value for them first (usually that would be the sky, but in this one so there wasn’t any – a compositional choice I made at the start).
I knew that the darkest parts of the grasses at the front would be the darkest value in the painting.
So once I had both of those those in I could relate everything else to them. That’s what I meant in my first plein air post about painting plein air when I said that it’s all about comparison, since you can’t match the values you see.
Within that, there’s still a huge amount of variation in the way the values can be interpreted. But it seems to me that establishing the darkest dark and lightest light early on is even more important in plein air painting than any other kind.
And although that kind of patient, diligent practice is a great teacher, I’m realising that sometimes it can be a good idea to throw yourself into an extreme situation and, well, cope.
Extreme painting
I read a story some time ago about Brazillian footballers, in the book Bounce by Matthew Syed. These players have a serious reputation. In an interview, one footballer was relating how they practiced.
Because they didn’t have much space, they played in small areas with small, hard balls. That made them very fast. Extreme football. And that speed of reaction and thought was still with them when they played on a normal sized field.
In the same book, there’s a great story about the English table-tennis team meeting the Japanese Team for the first time. The Japanese game was incredibly fast, and only one English payer could keep up with them.
This player had learned in a small shed, pushed up against the table with no space behind him. Since he couldn’t get back from the table, he had to think and react extremely quickly. And that speed stayed with him in a normal sized space.
And I think en painting plein air is a bit like this. You have to deal with an extreme value range, probable personal discomfort, composition, colour – and sometimes ant bites – all at the same time, and against the clock because the light is continually changing.
So when you do some of that and come back to the studio, you’re that much better at dealing with all those things at once.
Except the ants, hopefully.
Of all the paintings I did while I was there, I think I was happiest with this one. It had the most sunlight in it.
The year is beginning to turn. The last few days have been rainy in the Cotswolds, I have a feeling that there will be less opportunities now to get out and paint.
But Autumn is coming. When we moved here last October, the trees were a beautiful autumn gold. It was breath-taking. I’m hoping to catch some of that in paint before too long.
Best wishes and thanks for reading,
Paul
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Hi Paul: Enjoyed reading about your first attempts at plein air painting. Your painting is good. I am a still life painter and haven’t found the courage to go outside to paint. So I
appreciate your feedback and your courage to take on new challenges.
Thanks Deanna. You could always try something small in the garden for starters, if you have one. That’s what I was planning to do before I got thrown in the deep end.
Paul, your Shaded Track looks fresh and alive as though you did it quickly, great painting. I enjoyed reading your analogy and agree that perhaps having to paint quickly while plein air painting is good practise. Have only plein air painted a few time, with very little success. Must have been wonderful to paint the country side in Provence. Lucky you!
It was amazing! I’ve loved painting outdoors in the Cotswolds too. I think wherever you are, there’s probably something to paint! Have another go, it will get better I’m sure 🙂
Love this one, Paul!
Mimi! Great to hear from you 🙂
I love the painting and especially how you have captured the sunlight on the bales of hay. The delightful energy of the summer day is seen throughout the composition. I very much appreciate your insights on plein air painting, especially enjoying the very apt sports analogies.
Thanks Laurelle!
Hi Paul,
Of course you know a lot bout colour and i m very impressed of the freshness.
But what i like the most is the heyroles. Espescially the one most in front. It draws my attention immediately.
I see a cow in it, grazing the fresh grass. Its a famous cow we have here in our country. Red with one white stripe.
Anyhow, that is what attrackts me in your painting. The cow, if i may call it like that, seems to be on the golden mean, i think?
Great peace!
Thanks Pia, I’m fond of the hay bales too. And the one at the front was interesting because I wouldn’t normally use blue for a shadow on a yellow object. But, that’s what it appeared to be and it does seem to work!
Lovely painting. And your words about identifying the darkest and lightest values before you start was very helpful, a different way to proceed (I usually darken and lighten at the very end)–a way to think about how to frame all the values in a scene at the beginning of the process.
Thank you Gail 🙂
You can work out from the middle, for sure. And I’ve no doubt that there are painters, and you my very well be among them, for whom that approach works. I think the problem with it though, in extreme lighting situations at least, is that it’s so hard to judge where the middle is. Our visual systems just aren’t set up for working that way, we see everything relatively. That’s why I was trying to kind of “anchor” the values by finding the extreme ligh t and dark in the scene first.
Lovely painting with movement and light – you may have been in a bit of discomfort but it looks peaceful and warm – perfect for a snooze in the sun. Thank you for sharing your knowledge.
Thanks Dawn, and you’re very welcome.
Think less paint more ☺
You can paint without thinking? Impressive!
Thank you Paul for the method you used with anchoring the painting with darkest and lightest values. I’m going to try that. I haven’t done much painting en plein air. Now it beckons to me.
It’s brilliant Susan, you should totally do it! Don’t expect too much of yourself the first few times though, it is also hard! Look on them as experiments, perhaps, to begin with. Good luck!
PAUL,
Its a lovely artwork. Its literally glowing with sunshine. And its al the more interesting to upon after reading you email about your experiences with plein air.
Love the purple and yellow-green hues…
Thank you Noreen!
Dear Paul…
Such good and brave work.
Your deep commitment to learning and teaching is such a source of comfort and inspiration in the emotional minefield that is the world of painting. Sharing and exposing oneself takes great courage. Bravissimo!
That’s very helpful advice, I find it incredibly difficult to judge colour mixing outside, when I have set up camp in the shade to paint a sun-drenched haybale!
Gail
We live on an acre lot in the desert. This morning I thought I’d have a peaceful interlude in the back 40 sitting (for once!) on a little bench hubby had put out there for decoration. Welp. Commercial and small planes droned overhead ceaselessly (like painting near a runway.) Clouds came and went (Cool shadow! Warm shadow! No, cool! No, war— no, cool again!) The Palo Verde behind me had grown *through* the bench slots and and it’s sharp little sticks poked me in the back and pulled my hair. My umbrella blew over. Twice. And I found the red ant nest. And they found my coffee. Next time, I’m going to find a nice peaceful trail where I can stand up and run away if thins get too crawly..