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Some lessons I need to learn over and over again.  I love the large panorama, the big, ambitious breathtaking view.  That must be why every time I head out for another day of plein air painting, determined to ‘get it right this time,’ I get seduced by a gorgeous view, a fabulous vista, a wide-angle extravaganza.  Trouble is, plein air painting is of necessity quick, as the light changes so fast.  Every half hour, the scene is noticeably different.  In the studio I love working large, but when I’m outside I must scale down, and—despite my fabulous surroundings—I seem to forget every time that I would do much better to scale down my focus as well.  

After a frustrating foray last week, when I captured a disappointing shadow of the beautiful scene in front of me at World’s End in Hingham, MA on a 6” x 12” board, today I set out hoping for better results. 

 The scene before me was gorgeous, and (as usual) I immediately went for a sketch of the entire view, especially loving the purple loosestrife in the distance, the tree shapes, and the beautiful shapes of water and lilies in the foreground.  

Something bothered me, though, as I completed the sketch.  The airy distance between the middle ground trees and the distant ones captivated me, and the foreground became something complicated and messy to get through, in order to get to the good stuff.  As I felt my self dreading one part of the painting before I had begun, I stopped. 

Why even begin, when I could begin again?  

I flipped the page, and started a second sketch, zoomed in, focus found.

Paying attention to where my interest really lay, and allowing myself to start again and take the time to develop my focus carefully gave me a more manageable, more exciting composition, and a better result.  

Here’s the underpainting, done with reds, and purples in the shadows and yellow and oranges in the sunlight, and cooler, lighter greens and purples in the distance.

The whole painting, from arrival to departure from the site, took under two hours.  The extra sketch took me less than two minutes—unless you count the entire painting day last week, when I kept on working at the wrong painting.

Wild Loosestrife, 11 x 14

Full disclosure:  once at home, I spent a little time refining shapes and edges at the treetops and in the grass.  I often do this as a final step with plein air pieces I decide to frame.  These final touches, for me, demand the focus and concentration that I find more easily in my studio.  When possible I try to do this same day, as the information I need is usually not available from my photo references, but only in my memory.

All our plein air days are worthwhile, even if all we get from them are the experience of what NOT to do! Now, if I can just remember this for next time…