We decided to start sooner this year because Spring came so early. And we were not disappointed. 15 artists turned out to enjoy the warm sunny day in Dickinson Square in Manotick.
There were questions about finding an outdoor easel, what paints to bring etc. but mostly the artists spread out and got down to the business of painting. By noon most were ready to pack it in and get away. Before we left a number of artists presented their work for others to see.
Hopefully the weather will be so kind for rest of the outings, but that’s the luck of plein air painting.
Don’t forget bug spray too.
See you all next time.
Charlie


Some may notice the changes that I made to my painting in Manotick on our first painting trip, after I had returned to my studio. I’ve heard it said that ‘ a real plein air painting should start and finish in the field ’. I make changes and colour correct in my studio under indoor lighting. For me, the plein air process plays a major step, part of  the development of a finished painting. Charlie

 It’s early May and the warm temperatures, sunny days and frequent rainy spells, has brought on the colours of spring in breath-takingly short order. It’s as if the road travelled has changed, unrecognizably, over night; the path has come alive with sounds of song birds.


Despite all the negative news we read and hear about, we can still rejoice at Nature fulfilling our expectations once again. But how can we express these uplifting feelings in our paintings? Any photos I take never seem to capture the spontaneous rapture I feel when surrounded by nature’s energy and pulsing saturated colour.


My radar kicks in and I automatically begin to see possibilities for a painting. I tell myself to stop for a moment, take some time to listen to the sounds and observe the transient sunlight moving through the trees. We are in Blakeney Park today, near Almonte, where the mighty Mississippi River flows over rocks and cliffs and forms small waterways through the forest. The winding paths cross over several foot bridges. I found one colourful bridge that seemed to blend in with the new growth energy, yet placidly leads us over a gentle stream.


When I had a plan, I began to paint with vigour. The one-hour 11 x 14 sketch was rough but it had the feeling. In the studio it became my source for a 24x24 painting. No photo required.


Plein Air Painting is a bit of a hit-or-miss thing. If I miss the mark of what I experience out there – there is always another day and another canvass. And when I get it right my excitement is palpable.


The Manotick Art Association Plein Air adventures For MAA members are starting on Thursday, May 23 at Dickinson Square in Manotick at 9:30 am.

11x14 Sketch                                                       Blakeney Bridge 24x24

     It feels sooo great to be out painting when spring breaks. The temperature has to rise well above freezing for my acrylics to work well outside – and for me too! We experienced a warm spell earlier: too soon for buds and grasses to have any colour and many of the waterways were still iced over. But now, going into April the spring colours are coming out. A wonderful time to be outside.
     Over the past month, I had driven by this spot a number times waiting for the warmth of spring to take effect and last week I was rewarded. It was around 3 pm when the shadows begin to lengthen and light takes on a warm yellow cast. Remnants of snow signalled  the shoreline and with the multi colours of yellows and soft reds vibrating, the effect was startling. The complement colour of blue-violet, pulsed in the background.
      No urge to take pictures. I set a 16x20 canvas on my easel and do my best to keep it out of the direct sun. Such a strong motif! No need to define detail, that’s for later. The time and place is now. I squeeze my colours out: warm and cool blues, reds, yellows plus orange and white. With a 1” brush I mix and paint and repaint until the canvas sings with feelings. An hour later, I rest. The sun has slipped lower and I’m satisfied that I have captured the essence.
      Back in studio I make some minor changes over several days and call it finished. No better feeling for an artist.
Charlie,
April 2024

 On a quiet back country road, late last fall, just as the sun was setting, I drove past a stand of pines; their boughs laden with fresh snow. I pulled over and got out to take a few minutes to breath in the fresh air and experience the light show effect of the last stages of sundown with the orange sky creating a backdrop to the visual drama. I could feel the interaction of the orange and blue complimentary colours, pulsating from the cast shadows.

Within minutes the light was gone, like a final curtain, and I shivered as the temperature dropped. The fleeting image of the warming sun remained in my mind, like some forgotten adventure: could it be the time when, as a teenager, I walked home alone in the dark after pick-up hockey at an outdoor rink, or years later, stopping on the last run down the ski hill at Mont Tremblant, in awe of the sundown? 

When I returned to my studio, I chose a 24x30 canvas and placed it in a portrait attitude on my easel. I squeezed out acrylic paint: phthalo and ultramarine blue, cadmium orange,  yellow and white. Then, with a 2 inch brush and sweeping strokes, I roughly painted the colours that were registered in my mind’s eye, like some story from the past  enfolding.

In the following weeks I continued to follow my instincts, modifying colours and minimizing detail, all the while purposefully taking time away from the canvas in order to reassess the progress. At some point, when I ventured back into my studio and re-examined my painting, my mind said “that’s it. You can stop now.”

While no painting is ever perfect to my mind, there comes a time when it feels that my story has unfolded and it's time to let others draw their own impressions.

When was the last time we paused to breath in the fresh air and savour the wonder of our natural world?

​Charlie
December 2023

Our last MAA Plein Air outing for 2023 was held at Stewart Park in Perth followed by lunch at Fiddleheads. This marks the end of 17 Thursday morning sessions starting June 1st . For some artists, the program was an opportunity to try plein air painting for the first time. For the rest of us, being outside, meeting friends and becoming immersed in painting in a different setting each week is great. Catching up on the latest news while lunching in a local restaurant is a nice bonus for some after painting all morning.

I enjoy getting out and painting with others as much as anyone. More than that though, I get a big kick out of watching artists trying new techniques and progressing in their painting efforts from week to week. I don’t offer formal instruction, but I am happy to give my suggestions when asked. After all, plein air painting should be all about getting absorbed in our surroundings and learning how to develop a composition: defined in my books as ‘learning by doing’: a philosophy that was grilled into me by successful artists, when I was eager to learn all I could.
I look forward to repeating the program next year. I thank my helpers: Anne Robinson, Patti May, Jim Moran and Paul Powers for their advice and being there when I needed them. A special thanks to Paul for being our photographer.
The painting "The Call" is an example of one of my own paintings created during this years MAA Plein Air Program at Blakeney; AFTER it had been reworked in my studio.
Good painting!
Charlie
October 2023

The MAA Plein Air group had an opportunity to paint on the grounds of the Heather Haven Farm Horse riding facilities in Kars this past Thursday. We enjoyed a beautiful warm day with blue skies. Some of the majestic horses could be seen in the pastures nearby.

I found a spot to set up and became absorbed in firming up a composition before getting out my paints. As I began to take tentative efforts with a brush, still unsure how to pull the painting together, I sensed movement coming from the old shed. I looked closer and realized that there was a horse standing there, looking at me.

I rushed to capture the outline of the horse, thinking that it might decide to spoil the moment by joining the other horses in the pasture. How long the horse had been standing there watching what I was doing, I’ll never know. Long enough though, to awaken my radar and recognize a painting opportunity when I saw one. I had my story – a motif *.

To my mind, that’s what makes plein air painting exciting. We practise painting outside, in challenging conditions, in order to be ready for whatever surprises come along: a sunset, a revelation or even just a special quiet moment. We need to be open to ourselves; aware of moments of inspiration, asking ourselves what was the initial attraction? How can we best express it all with brush and a two-dimensional canvas?

This plein air business is so subjective; it’s a trial and error process really. Failures are common, but when we have a winner, we can surprise ourselves with the results and failures always have a lesson. On looking back at some of my work from years ago, I can now see where the paintings need improvement. At the time they were painted I thought my art was pretty good – the best I could do. But I moved on, along the never-ending road to enlightenment.

Charlie

September 2023
* motif - a distinctive feature or dominant idea in an artistic or literary composition. Google