Discussions with Mark Norseth

A quick post…

this morning went quite well. Out the door by 7 AM, setup and running well before 8.  The light was actually the only drawback, in that the sky was almost perfectly clear, and I realized that I’d have to adjust my values throughout.  The darks were darker, essentially because I’d  lost a bit of the atmosphere that a touch of cloud cover veils objects with.

No matter, I’ll get that effect again, since it’s one we commonly  have, and having the deeper tones won’t be an obstacle. I’ll merely select the tones that work best when I tie the painting together towards the end.

Here’s a reminder of where  I left off yesterday morning.  The basic values and shapes are loosely established on a warm-toned panel ( 11 x 14″).

Today’s session (of about an hour and a half ) brought the values and colors closer to nature (closer to what the eye objectively sees), and I  was able to work over the entire painting due to decent light conditions.  As some clouds finally rolled in, the darks warmed a touch and lightened very slightly, which allowed me to get something closer to what I mentioned earlier, the effect I’m anticipating in the final work.

Working with a three-part medium, as I have most of the summer, and many good sized, pointed round bristle brushes on this, which leave a shape-mark that I like.

I’ve been noticing that I’m shying away from filberts recently for landscape…they seem somehow androgenous to me these days.

From here, I’ll take a day off and get back with this on Monday, weather and God permitting, to make it more More.

One change  is that I’ll need to add a figure to make this work…the size of this grove of Ironwoods is deceptive, they are  bigger trees than you might think from this little painting. It even surprises me a bit when a person goes by them, and this painting doesn’t yet reflect that contrast.

This is the setup I’m running with lately.

The vintage easel I picked up recently has become a great favorite of mine, mainly because I’ve seen it in photos of Willard Metcalf and others for years, and now feel I’m part of the club a bit, kind of like having the same brand guitar pick as Elvis or something.  In some ways not as practical as a French easel or an Anderson style easel, I still love this baby. It takes all sizes of canvases, brass and steel fittings, and surveyor-tripod spiked tips.

I found this photo of Edwin Dickinson working on the same easel  in Provincetown. (Photo courtesy of the Provincetown Artist Registry)

And, Wilson Irvine somewhere with same:

Haven’t posted recently…busy with show arrangements for “A Sideward Glance”, my next show at the Gallery at Ward Centre in October.

I’ve  been working on some quiet, smaller paintings to go with a couple fairly involved pieces I’ve posted over the summer.  They round things out nicely when (and if) successfully painted.  I enjoy doing them very much, but I find myself somewhat in the minority amongst outdoor painters (I think it’s time to give “plein air” a little break) in that I have no reservations about working on them over as many sessions as necessary.

Anyway, when I get the gumption I’ll write out a cranky p.o.v. piece about the whole thing of outdoor painting devolving into something resembling a sporting event.

This morning, I returned to a location I worked from a couple of  years back. I actually began the rough drawings a few days ago, and from those I felt I could attempt a small painting that explores the possibilities evoked by this place. I do this a lot, and think it’s actually a healthy sign. It’s not that the “scene” changes, but certainly the artist does, a fact that becomes evident to any painter who revisits a favorite painting in a museum after a long absence and sees it differently.  The painting hasn’t changed, but it looks different. You find your emphasis and taste has evolved, or that you identify with the artist in a new way. It’s sort of the same thing with some locations.

Here’s the final of a half dozen little sketchbook drawings, followed by the inital lay-in of what I’ll be working on most mornings next week.  I’ll try to remember to take a photo of the place and the painting setup I’m using these days.

The painting, on a flake-white primed birch panel, is 11 x 14″, and I’ve tipped it into the frame that will be developed as I work on the painting. At least that’s the idea.

I could easily spend a week of mornings  on this piece, in one hour snippets,  depending on the weather and consistency of the light effect.  Ten minutes from home, so not a big problem.

A secondary point of interest is that a big gathering of AA folks meet near where I’ll be working, and years ago I noticed what I considered a particularly strong attraction to my painting activities from some of them, which I welcome.  I have a hunch that some seekers, perhaps in a cul-de-sac of addiction,  see something special in the involvement of a painter and nature.  The comments I’ve received from them has often seemed unusually respectful, almost reverent.  Am I off base?

This is a (24 x 18″) piece I’m working on over consecutive evenings on the Honolulu side.

There’s a beautiful light effect that takes place as the sun sets, and everything in the area slows down, making it an ideal place to paint. Fisherman are everywhere, coming back from days out on the ocean, speaking to me with accents that I can’t place. That part is fun, these guys hanging out, smoking their cigarettes,  and speaking to each other in who-knows-what language.  Sometimes, there’s been some drinking going on prior to discovering me and my painting, but they’re sailors, and that’s what they do.

I’m about halfway through, there are a number of adjustments/refinements in the color and light that need to develop. I can push it further, I think, toward something appearing more in the nature of a momentary glance than the prolonged stare it’s become.  Simplifications don’t come quickly for me, I have to see the need, and that only comes after I’ve got things laid out.

And, as I always try to do, I’m developing the frame as I work on the painting.

This is the raw poplar, joined and fitted, awaiting sanding and the first undertone of color, probably a red as seen under the hull of the boat.

T.W. with Grey, 16 x 12″  oil on linen

Being involved with painting the outdoor world as much as I am, I really value the opportunity to teach  classes  involving the human form. When I teach,  I always paint along with the class.

This is a portrait  head completed over about 12 hours from a favorite model.  Since we have students new to color, I often choose to have  black and grey tones in the composition so that they can key their flesh color mixes against simple values.

The model looks good against grey, anyway.

Silver -Grey, a Corner of Kailua Oil on Linen 20 x 22″

This piece is now finished, one painting of what has become a small series of paintings down in this wonderful area of my local beach.  Construction of a frame is under way, and I’ll be varnishing in a couple months in time for a show in October.

It’s going in a direction I’d like to continue to pursue, turning away from the ocean-based works and drawing more on subjects that are a bit unexpected, the easily-overlooked glimpses of beauty.  It’s been very helpful to find  that others have responded well to this piece and other pictures like it. Despite popular notions of the artist forging a bold direction in spite of opinion, I find it gratifying to discover that I’m not alone in seeing that this difficult world has been laced with unexpected glimpses of heaven.