Painting can be lonely. Laboring away at a painting all by yourself, with no one who understands, can feel isolating. But last Thursday and Friday I painted with about 25 members of Plein Air Washington Artists (PAWA) at Dosewallips State Park on Hood Canal. Most of us camped at the campground where we met for our throwdown (daily art show) and a potluck. It was great to be with people who are excited by the same things I’m excited about.
My best painting was Friday morning. I walked out the clammers’ trail to the tide flats where I saw a lone tree with character. This tree was painted by many other painters in our group.
The lone tree
Later I walked way out onto the tide flats at low tide where probably a hundred people were scattered, digging clams. I made a value painting to get the lights and darks established, then I made a colored painting. The value sketch is good, but the watercolor is disappointing.
The value sketchClammers at low tide
On Thursday afternoon, I drove about six miles up the Dosewallips River Road, where I found the river pouring through a narrow gorge next to the road. Although it was a blazing hot afternoon, I found some shade and made my painting. I like the drama of the light and dark areas.
Dosewallips gorgePAWA members looking over the paintings at the throwdown
I was challenged to raise my level of painting last week when I attended Eric Wiegardt’s four day watercolor workshop in Long Beach, Washington. Every morning and afternoon, Eric painted a demonstration painting for the twenty-two participants, and gave us enough time to paint the same scene after he did. At 3:30 each day we gathered for a critique of of our paintings. Watching over the shoulder of a master painter is the best way to learn how to paint.
Eric teaching at Waikiki Beach, Cape Disappointment State Park
Eric is that rare combination of a great painter and a great teacher. He says there are three goals of a painting. 1. Attract the eye to the painting from a distance. 2. Carry the eye throughout the picture plane. 3. Bring the eye to the area of dominance and hold it there as long as possible.
To achieve the first goal, he uses a few connected shapes and a limited number of values (three to five values are sufficient). He often begins a painting by boldly sweeping in the middle values. Then he moves to the darker values, and last of all he puts in the light values (usually the sky and water). He brings the eye to the area of dominance by increasing the use of detail, color, lines, etc., as he gets near the area of dominance.
That constitutes the majority of his teaching. He keeps it simple and avoids confusing his students with lots of rules or guidelines. Use a big brush, keep your shapes interesting and connected, keep your values clean and limited, keep your paint fresh, and use details only as necessary. Those general guidelines will lead to a good painting.
For his first demo, Eric painted the dramatic cliffs at Cape Disappointment (below). Notice how he’s not bothered by drips and runs in the painting. They make the painting more connected and harmonious as the colors run together.
Eric’s painting of Cape Disappointment
Here’s my attempt to capture the same scene.
My painting of Cape Disappointment
On our second day, we painted an old wooden sailboat in the Ilwaco City Harbor. Eric let the colors of the sailboat run down into the water so that the boat’s reflection was connected to the boat.
Eric’s painting of the boat
In my first two attempts, I didn’t use enough water in my paintbrush, so the sailboat looked pasty and dry. On my third attempt, I finally got the paper wet and used lots of water in my brush. Success!
My painting of the boat
On the third day of the workshop, Eric brought us to the historic community of Oysterville. It was a hot, sunny day, so he chose to paint a copse of roses on a picket fence in a shady lane. It seemed like a complicated subject, but he wasn’t intimidated. He began with wet washes of red, followed by green washes that partially overlapped the red, giving a rich mix of colors for the roses which were still undefined. He cautions against defining your subject too early. He then cut in darker values to bring out the roses, and finally added detail to the roses in his area of dominance.
Eric’s painting of the roses
I gamely tried the same subject and was pleasantly surprised to see the red and green washes mix together to produce a rich color. At the critique, Eric suggested that I outline the roses in my area of dominance and add some detail to them. This helped a lot
My painting of the roses
On our last day, we visited the Port of Nahcotta, a working port for the oyster dredges in Willapa Bay. Eric painted the Tokeland, a historic oyster dredge sitting on blocks in a corner of the port. He began by wetting the paper front and back, then he painted the outlines of the boat in yellow, using the brush only (no pencil marks). Then he added the mid-tones in the boat’s hull, allowing them to run down and mix together.
Eric’s painting of the FV Tokeland
I wet the paper and i was pleased to see the washes running down like Eric’s. Pretty happy with this painting.
My painting of the FV Tokeland
Our group of painters developed a great sense of camaraderie during the workshop as we all struggled to put Eric’s teaching into practice. On Wednesday evening, we were invited to the home of Kathryn Murdock, who pampered us with a delicious dinner of appetizers, spanakopita, salad and dessert. On Thursday evening, several of us gathered at Oysterville Sea Farms for a tantalizing bowl of chowder on the deck overlooking Willipa Bay. It was a great week together.
Last Thursday morning I drove to Marrowstone Island near Port Townsend. Marrowstone Island seems like a throwback to a quieter time. The old farms still give the place a bucolic feel, the traffic is sparse, and the pace is slow.
I stopped at the Nordland Store, which faces the harbor filled with sailboats lying to their anchors. An old dock and shellfish processing shed on pilings caught my eye, and I found a shady place on the beach to paint the boats, pilings, and sheds. I spent a pleasant hour an a half making this painting.
On Friday I drove to Dabob Valley near Quilcene to make a painting. I found a good subject, made a pencil sketch, set up my easel, and got ready to paint. No palette! I had left my palette and all my paints back in the studio. Feeling a little foolish, I drove home and made the painting from memory and the photos I took. Perhaps the painting was better because of it.
My memory of the valley includes a series of ridges receding into the distance, all covered with scraggly fir trees. I set a barn in the valley to provide a pop of red color.
Dabob Valley
While I was at it, I made a second painting from memory. This is Dabob Bay looking toward the Olympic Mountains. I made up the boat in the water and the red skiff on the beach.
Thursday morning began with a fine misty rain, just right for watercolor painting. The mist drapes the hillsides and makes everything soft. But you can’t paint in the rain — it makes the watercolors run all over the paper.
My solution was to paint from the front seat of my car. A little cramped, but it’s better than nothing. I drove to Sawdust Hill Road, a side road off of Big Valley Road near Poulsbo. There’s a beautiful old barn on the edge of a sloped pasture, just below a ridge of tall trees. It looks like the property owner is making an effort to preserve this fine old structure.
Even though I parked my car as far off the road as possible, there wasn’t much room when the garbage truck came by, and when a loaded logging truck came around the corner, I held my breath until he was past.
The pastures of the Skokomish River valley are bordered by ragged ridges on either side that still show evidence of being clearcut years ago. The barns in the valley seem to hunker below the mountains, especially when the clouds scud by. That’s the feeling I tried to express in this painting.
In my teacher’s critique, he admired the soft edge of the ridgetop, the color in the clouds, the lost edges of the barn, the white space in front of the barns that is left to the viewer’s imagination, and the soft edges of the barn roofs. He suggested running a little blue into the yellow of the grass, and to soften the edge of the silo. I like this painting.
Last week I spent three days painting with members of Plein Air Washington Artists at Lake Crescent in Olympic National Park. I camped at Fairholme Campground and only got rained on the last morning.
One of my favorite places to paint was Salmon Cascades, a series of waterfalls on the Sol Duc River. I lugged my gear below the falls and set up on a rocky shelf with a good view of the falls. By the time I was finished, my legs and back were aching because of the uneven rocks. A number of people came by to see my painting, including a couple of local Indian teenagers, who told me it’s almost time for the Coho salmon to start running. It would be fun to see them leaping up the falls.
It rained intermittently while I painted. I put up my umbrella when I felt raindrops, but inevitably some drops hit the paper anyway.
Salmon Cascades, Sol Duc River, Olympic National Park
Later that day, when the sun came out, I painted Lake Crescent Lodge. This historic structure on the shores of Lake Crescent, with its huge stone fireplace, dark beams and pleasant sun porch, is beloved by many visitors, including Katy and me. I found a place to paint behind the lodge, with the afternoon sun striking the side of the building.
Lake Crescent Lodge, Olympic National Park
On the previous day, I painted the beach in front of the lodge where many people linger on summer afternoons. There are logs to sit on, Adirondack chairs, and couples strolling the shore. Brightly colored kayaks line the beach, and families with kids splash in the water. I even saw a bride and groom getting their wedding photos taken on the dock, all dressed up.
Lake Crescent shore
I made several other watercolors, but they didn’t make the grade. All in all, it was a very pleasant and productive outing.
I love to explore the back roads of the Olympic peninsula to discover the gritty, down-to-earth scenes I like to paint. I often come across scenes of rural poverty, like this shack up the Skokomish River Road. It looks like they started with a small travel trailer and kept adding lean-tos and extensions until they had a poor person’s mansion. Various building materials lean up against the outside walls, and a red tractor rests in the weeds. It’s a rustic way to live, but it makes a great subject.
I was pleased with the way I ran the color of the trees down into the roof, and the way I let the walls merge with the ground. Nice and loose.
Last year I spent a day rambling around the Chimacum area near Port Townsend looking for subjects to paint. I came across a pasture with half a dozen dilapidated pickups parked helter-skelter. It was a pickup cemetery. Maybe some farmer couldn’t bear to sell off his trusty pickups when they wore out, so he put them out to pasture, like old horses.
At any rate, today I arranged them into a composition with clouds and trees in the background and painted this picture.
In April, I removed the old cast iron bathtub in our bathroom and replaced it with a tiled walk-in shower. In other words, I didn’t do any painting at all. However, since then, I’ve been outside painting a slew of plein air paintings. I’ll take painting over plumbing any day!
Big Beef Bay is an estuary that opens onto Hood Canal near Seabeck, WA. There’s a salmon research facility on the creek that leads into the head of the bay, and there are often photographers crowding the beach to photograph the eagles that congregate here.
Big Beef Bay on May 13
Brownsville Marina is about ten minutes from our house. On a gray day, I tried to show the drifting mist coming down on Agate Passage.
Brownsville Marina on May 16
On Fridays, I drive to Bainbridge Island to join my life drawing friends to draw and paint a live model. After our session last Friday I painted the coffee kiosk at the Bainbridge ferry terminal. This is a popular spot to grab a cup of coffee for commuters on the way to work in Seattle.
Coffee kiosk at the Bainbridge Island ferry terminal. May 17
Last Sunday, Katy and I drove to Aberdeen to do research for the cozy mystery novel she’s writing. We stayed in a grand old bed-and-breakfast in Aberdeen, and, fortified with a hearty breakfast, explored Preacher’s Slough near Aberdeen.
The slough got its name in 1859 when a Rev. Douglas rowed his rowboat up the Chehalis River from Aberdeen to Montesano to visit some parishioners who were preparing a chicken dinner for his arrival. Unfortunately, he took a wrong turn up one of the sloughs that branch off the river and got lost. He was so late he had to eat cold chicken long after everyone else had finished, and for the rest of his career he was known as “that damn fool preacher who got lost.” The slough was used to store log rafts during the heyday of logging, and the pilings used to moor the rafts are still in place.
Preacher’s Slough, May 20
On Tuesday, I had a church meeting in Hoodsport, and afterward I went to the beach for this moody painting of beach houses.
Hoodsport, WA, May 21
In the afternoon, I drove up the Skokomish River road. This road meanders up a lovely valley with old farms nestled between the logged-over hills above. It was a damp, misty afternoon, so I sat in my car and made this painting of an abandoned barn.
