Friday, May 15, 2015

The Luminous Point: Corot

Among the many charms of Camille Corot's (French, 1796-1875) work is the way tone (what we would call dark-light value) balances so harmoniously (even across its wide range of dark to light). At the same time, his colors, like his soft, painterly touch, remain mild and delicate. I love how he combines feathery edges with a few big lights, a few very dark darks, and an infinity of mid-tones.

Recently I stumbled on the following (collected in Painters on Painting, one of my new favorite books):

The Luminous Point

"In a painting there is always a luminous point; but this point must be unique. You may place it where you wish; in a cloud, in the reflection of the water, on in a bonnet. However, there must only be a single tone of this value."

This sent me back to the paintings and, sure enough, I saw it. In this painting, it's the bending man's shirt:

Here, I think it's the light reflected off the woman's hair ribbons (although this is not the brightest, highest-key value, which is probably the woman's white sleeve, the "point" of light on the ribbons glows up against the darker tones he places around it, in this case the young woman's hair):

I thought about titling this post "Corot's Secret." The tabloid headline style would be in keeping with my last post on the man, Corot's Palette Revealed (also posted in spring, not incidentally).

But if Corot had a "secret" it was simply this: he knew and painted from himself. He was so intimately in touch with his own genuine love of nature, that it was said that when he posed his models he instinctively "made them equal, but not superior to, the trees and water he loved so well, an equation of man and nature." (Joseph C. Sloane)

In the painting below, though it's hard to see, there's a spot in the yellow clouds near the overhanging branch in the middle of the picture that is slightly brighter than the surrounding tones:

And in this next one, the "luminous point" is the little rectangular patch of light nestled in the grass in front of the cow:

Detail of above painting showing "the luminous point" .

Knowing himself also helped Corot know what "effect" he was going for when he painted. Like Cezanne, he covered his whole canvas as soon as possible and worked on all parts of the painting at once, "improving it very gently until I find that the effect is complete."

If there's any other "secret" to how he worked, it's that he saw and painted primarily in values rather than in colors. "That which I look for while I paint is the form, the harmony, the value of the tones," he wrote. "Color comes afterwards for me because above all I like the harmony in the tones."

All of this helps to lend Corot's paintings their marvelous unity of effect - what many have called their "poetry" - the way, wordlessly and all at once, they convey such feeling.

Monday, April 6, 2015

Tracking Abbott Thayer's Monadnock

I had the words of poet Donald Hall in my head:

"Great blue mountain! Ghost."

I was driving to Dublin, New Hampshire in late March, about an hour from where I live, chasing a different mountain from Hall's in "Mount Kearsarge." I wanted to see and to paint Mount Monadnock, the name of which means "mountain that stands alone." Native Americans are said to have called it "Mountain of the Great Spirit." 

Abbott Handerson Thayer, Monadnock in Winter at the Currier Museum, Manchester, NH.
High res!- click to see it close.

I've been interested in Monadnock since seeing the painting above by Abbott Handerson Thayer. Today Thayer is known, when he is known at all, for painting angels and calling the world's attention to protective animal coloration, which quickly led to the invention of military camouflage in W.W. I. 

Not as widely known is that Thayer obsessed over Mount Monadnock, which towered above his Dublin studio, painting it many times in his later years. A total transcendentalist, he was a manic depressive who believed God was within nature and was dictating his imagery to him. William James, Henry's philosopher brother, sent his son to be tutored by Thayer, who was then among the most famous painters in the country (Thayer joined but quickly quit The Ten American Painters.) Thomas Wilmer Dewing, Frank W. Benson, and Edmund C. Tarbell all came to paint with him in Dublin.  

As both an American art history geek and an American literature geek, I was fascinated to learn that Ralph Waldo Emerson wrote one of his most famous poems about the mountain. "Monadnoc" turns out to be a sort of rhyming instruction manual for applying transcendentalist ideals to everyday life (I like Emerson, but I find the poem unreadable). 

Among his circle at Concord, Emerson started a virtual cult of Monadnock. It became Henry David Thoreau's favorite mountain. He hiked it in 1844, 1852, 1858, and 1860 and studied its botany and geology extensively. It can take between four and nine hours to the summit and back, depending on the route one takes.

A. H. Thayer, Monadnock in Winter, owned by the Metropolitan Museum, NYC

I do prefer Thoreau's Monadnock poem to Ralph's. 

"With frontier strength ye stand your guard,
With grand content ye circle round,
Tumultuous silence for all sound..."

He imagines it as some vast, proud ship, "Sailing through rain and sleet,/Through winter's cold and summer's heat;/Still holding on upon your high emprise,/Until ye find a shore amid the skies..."

A. H. Thayer's Monadnock

The sight of the mountain, distinct because of its snow-collecting, denuded peak ("—its sublime gray mass," wrote Thoreau "—that antique, brownish-gray, Ararat color. Probably these crests of the earth are for the most part of one color in all lands, that gray color of antiquity, which nature loves.") certainly held a profoundly earthy yet mystical significance for him. Indeed, Thoreau seems to recommend seeing Monadnock over climbing it: 

"Those who climb to the peak of Monadnock have seen but little of the mountain. I came not to look off from it, but to look at it. The view of the pinnacle itself from the plateau below surpasses any view which you get from the summit. It is indispensable to see the top itself and the sierra of its outline from one side.... It is remarkable what haste the visitors make to get to the top of the mountain and then look away from it."

Surprise! Another of Thayer's depictions of Monadnock in winter.
At the turn of the 20th century, a wealthy admirer (related to the Boston Copleys I believe) offered to build the Thayer family a house and artist's studio in Dublin. Between the literary fuss and Thayer's relocation, Dublin became a magnet for wealthy socialites and the writers and artists who love them. 

Yup, another Monadnock in winter by Thayer

After studying a few of Thayer's Monadnock paintings, I realized that although the compositions vary, they're all painted from the same location and the same time of year - they all show the same wintry view of Monadnock as it rises from behind a smaller slope that's offset to the left. The time of year - March - was right. I became obsessed with finding that spot. 

"O pilgrim, wandering not amiss!" (Thoreau)

Monadnock about a 3/4 mile from the state park trailhead.

Leaving Monadnock State Park (there's little point going unless you're going to climb it) and checking the paintings, I realized Thayer had to be painting it from the other side. Of course - Dublin, NH, and the Dublin art colony. I drove along the skirt of the mountain to the Historical Society of Cheshire County Archive Library and Museum in Keene, NH.

Here I pored over histories of Dublin and its art colony as well as the one at nearby Cornish, NH. I learned that the land procured for Thayer's use was "above Dublin Pond," in other words, between the pond and the mountain.  

Of the many luminaries who came and went here during the "American Renaissance" the most famous today are Mark Twain, Tarbell, Benson, Birge Harrison, Rockwell Kent, who was actually a student of Thayer's, the Rev. Higginson who first published Emily Dickinson, Imagist poet Amy Lowell, scores of transcendentalists, and many other painters and writers, amid sojourners such as Amelia Earhart, Ethel Barrymor, and William Howard Taft. 

I learned that some of the artists (Thayer?) resided in an enclave called Lone Tree. I left Keene and headed over to the "town" of Dublin. 

If there's really a town here it's well hidden. Although there stands a town hall, a library, and a few other quaint, quasi-official looking buildings, I didn't see any evidence that anyone ever went in or out of them; I think Dublin's still around so it can support the headquarters of Yankee Magazine.

There's a Dublin historical society and a library too, but neither was open, so I kept on scouting about.  

Abbott H. Thayer, Dublin Pond, New Hampshire, c. 1896

Dublin Pond in winter

It didn't take long to find Dublin Pond (I passed it on my way into town), and sure enough, but for the ice and snow cover, it looked just like they'd painted it (sort of). During the colony's heyday, the road above the pond was dotted with mansions, many of which are still there. Between the mystical aura, the genuine natural beauty of the place, and the ready market of well-heeled sophisticates, the Dublin Art Colony, as it's known today, was born beneath the mountain - just exactly where, I didn't know. 

Rockwell Kent, Dublin Pond (1903)

Rockwell Kent, Winter, Monhegan, Island (1907) has been called the 20th century's first American masterpiece. But why not the 1903 "Pond" above?

I could see from the road above the pond that the mountains here could align the way they look in Thayer's painting.

This is the view from directly across the pond.

But Thayer's view was closer than I could get just by driving back and forth looking for a way up into the hills.

Remnants of faded 19th century opulence were everywhere.
There was nothing but private roads. I did find one called "Lone Tree Road," and I even ventured up it. There was an old rambling manse at the top of the hill but absolutely no view of Monadnock. It did occur to me that maybe the waves of pine trees had grown up and obscured the peak. A Real Estate listing for the place told of "two art studios on the property," so I assume this was in the "Latin Quarter" and certainly not far from Thayer's studio.

This looked very promising based on the alignment of the two mountains in Thayers' paintings, but I decided it wasn't worth being automatically arrested. 

Eventually I had to drive on without locating Thayer's vantage point. However, I did find a good spot to paint out of the wind in a cemetery across the pond. 

Here's the sketch I came away with. It's not much next to Thayers' but I hope to expand on it as he was wont to do, in the studio.

Monadnock Sketch, 6" x 8" oil on paper
I of course will go back to paint Monadnock. And I do still want to find out where Thayer's studio was. 

Monadnock from Wachusett

I would I were a painter, for the sake
   Of a sweet picture, and of her who led,
   A fitting guide, with reverential tread,
Into that mountain mystery. First a lake
   Tinted with sunset; next the wavy lines
   Of far receding hills; and yet more far,
Monadnock lifting from his night of pines
   His rosy forehead to the evening star.

John Greenleaf Whittier (1862)

Monadnick as rendered by Rockwell Kent

Sunday, April 5, 2015

On Painting, Gnosis, and Longing for God

Those brief, spontaneous moments, like a sort of blessed balancing act, in which every book one opens provides another key to the labyrinthine mansion of existence…. each new passage continuing a revelation sparked by the last, and all in perfect alignment and clarity with the most important questions of human Being that one is wrestling with right now….

First Thaw, 11" x 14," oil on board, 2015

“…Gnosticism is a kind of mysticism, as the best abstract art is .... (In gnosticism) the true source of existence is the divine; authentic existence seeks to return to its divine source. It is not clear that it can; gnosticism posits a Manichean conflict between the darkness of being-in-the-world and light, the sign of the absolute transcendence of God.... gnosticism is very contemporary, because of the perverse if unconscious feeling of the human as thrown into nothingness/darkness and, if it wants to sustain any sense of itself - any sense of a reason for being - having to reach for “gnosis,” that is insight into the light of God, while falling in the nothingness/darkness of the world….(certain paintings) articulate this gnostic predicament.”

“Gnosticism (and also ART as I see it and hope to practice and embody it in my work) is an attempt to achieve a knowledge which is not simply intellectual or theoretical, “but a knowledge which is at the same time a liberating and redeeming effect … given by revelation … redeeming knowledge which gathers together the object of knowledge (the divine nature), the means of knowledge (the redeeming gnosis), and the knower himself.”

“The urge to gnostic statement is the true inner necessity of authentic abstract art, implicit in it from the start.” (Donald Kuspit, Redeeming Art)


“The first step in regaining our embodiment as mediators (artists) is to establish a clear, open connection with our larger, macrocosmic “body,” the earth itself.” (Reggie Ray, Touching Enlightenment)

Late Winter, 5.75" x 7.5" oil on paper. 2015

“Thus there is knowledge for the sake of knowledge, knowledge for the sake of serving one’s neighbor, and knowledge in order to better love God." (Donald Kuspit, Redeeming Art)


Commenting on the images in (Sartre's) “Nausea,” Bachelard writes that “Roquentin’s sickness is in the very world of his material images.… Bachelard condemns realistic or intellectualistic explanations” (i.e., like the gnostics, in favor of a different, more holistic kind of knowing). (Introduction to On Poetic Imagination and Revery)


“Painting is an exploratory process. Your job is to investigate, explore, dig into, and the tracks of your process are evidence of clear seeing.” - Stuart Shils

Sun Showers #2, 10" x 8," oil on paper, 2015

The goal of painting is not to render what things look like. (Don't make paintings of things: Make paintings. Paintings are equivalents, new pieces of Nature.) Painting is about visual metaphors for the experience of noumenasymbols of a deeper experience of human being-in-the-world.

High Tide, Rye Beach, oil on canvas board, 2015

“Consider the etymology of the word ‘metaphor.’ Meta (beyond) and phora, meaning to carry: Carrying meaning beyond the literal, the tangible, beyond the grossly semantic, to the self-contained Ding an sich (thing-in-itself, knowable only intuitively) .... Metaphor is the generator, the power plant of music,  just as it is in poetry [or painting]. Aristotle places metaphor halfway between the unintelligible and the commonplace. It is Metaphor, he says, which most produces knowledge. The artist cannot help but agree, nor can the lover of art.” (Leonard Bernstein, Harvard Lectures)

Spring Garlands, 8" x 8," oil on canvas board, 2015

“It is a secret which every intellectual man quickly learns, that, beyond the energy of his possessed and conscious intellect, he is capable of a new energy (as of an intellect doubled on itself), by abandonment to the nature of things; that, beside his privacy of power as an individual man, there is a great public power, on which he can draw, by unlocking, at all risks, his human doors, and suffering the ethereal tides to roll and circulate through him : then he is caught up into the life of the Universe, his speech is thunder, his thought is law, and his words are universally intelligible as the plants and animals.” (Ralph Waldo Emerson, “The Poet,” Essays, Second Series, 1844)

Sun Showers #3, oil on canvas mounted on wood, 12" x 12," 2015

"It is in moments of Being when man has fount THAT beyond words and thought and has called it Brahman, Atman, Elohim, God, Nirvana, Tao, Allah, or OM which according to the Upanishads includes all names, and other sacred words. In a state of contemplation and union (as Saint Teresa  defines them in her “four ways of prayer”) the knower and the known are one. Ego-consciousness has disappeared: the painter of the tree has become the tree.” (Juam Mascaro, introduction to the Penguin Classics edition of The Dhammapada)


“Absolutely unmixed attention is prayer.” (Simone Weil)

Monadnock in Winter, 6" x 8" oil on paper, 2015

“But now, like a whispering in dark streets/rumors of God run through your dark blood.”

"Now pray
as I who came back from the same confusion 
learned to pray.

I returned to paint upon the altars
those old holy forms, 
but they shone differently,
fierce in their beauty.

So now my prayer is this:

You, my own deep soul,
trust me. I will not betray you.
My blood is alive with many voices
telling me I am made of longing.”

-Rilke, Book of Hours.

Monday, March 16, 2015

Ultimate Winter Plein Air Painting Spot - the Mount Washington Hotel

The truly incredible Mount Washington Hotel in Bretton Woods, New Hampshire

Spent the weekend in the snow with painting buddy Todd Bonita.

Volpe posing for a feature in "Plein Air Pin-Ups"
After it started snowing late on our first day, we resolved to chase the kind of atmosphere that American Impressionist Willard Metcalf (1858-1925) captured in Cornish, NH paintings such as "The White Veil" and "The Enveloping Mantle."

Willard Metcalf, The White Veil (1909)

They aren't Metty's strongest paintings (I think the ones in full sunlight have more life and better design), but the grays convince with subtle shifts in value and warm and cool tonalities.

Willard Metcalf, The Enveloping Mantle (1920)
We spent two days in the snow, sometimes sinking hip deep in drifts along riverbanks and rocky, wooded hills ......

Todd B. in action.

River painting underway.
I look cold for a reason.

The Intervale, 6x8 oil sketch.
.... before we realized how easy this could have been, perched on the sheltering veranda of the Mount Washington Hotel.

Todd B. painting "the veil" in relative comfort.
The Mount Washington, built in 1902, has been updated to the point of surpassing its original turn-of-the-century-grand-hotel glory. It's now a splendid, world-class resort and spa with six or so floors, several swimming pools including indoor and outdoor (heated and lit up at night, with a little perpetually burning bonfire to stop at and warm up en route), movie theater, numerous ball rooms, restaurants, etc. etc., even its own post office.

They love winter here. Besides downhill and cross-country skiing, they do sled dog rides - one ripped across the road as we drove up to the hotel. Click here for the proof (link's not working great, sorry).

Lobby of the Mount Washington

The building has an enormous wrap-around veranda where nothing's stopping one from setting up an easel and painting any number of gorgeous views while stepping inside for refreshments between paintings.

Snowy peak, 5" x 7" from the hotel porch.

Study of hills from the hotel porch.

It's the perfect base camp for a workshop, too. However, at about $350 a night, folks living on an artist's "salary" might want to do what we did and paint here for the day while sleeping nearby in more modest accommodations. Bonus: there's a 24-hour shuttle that will take you just about anywhere you need to go, too.

Abstract snowy mountainside, also from the porch.
Todd and I are looking into setting up a team-taught workshop here in 2016. It's just too perfect and fun not to at least try to get a group of crazy painters up here with us.

A stranger in paradise.
For those who prefer the sun-kissed beach to the sleet-bitten rock, there are still one or two slots left in our Ogunquit, Maine "Art of Seeing" workshop in September, but don't delay as it's almost filled and it's only March.

In the meantime, there's still plenty of room in my spring White Mountain workshop as Crawford Notch Artist-in-Residence at the AMC Highland Center lodge. That plein air workshop will run May 3-6, 2015. Check here for more info on that.

Willard Leroy Metcalf keeping it real.

Wednesday, March 11, 2015

Plein Air Ho!

This week, as I did last week, I joined a posse of intrepid painters who tramped out to paint among the snowy hills and fields of Battis Farm on an outing in Amesbury, Mass.

From left: Donald Jurney, Jane Coder, and Tom Bailey on "the outing." Don't be fooled - it was balmy out there! They're only pretending to be cold.

Donald Jurney has been sounding the horn via Facebook, rousing from hibernation anyone who wants to come and move some paint around and have a few laughs. Painting can be a lonely road - it's nice to have camaraderie on the way. I caught up with some old friends, did a one-hour sketch, and headed back to the studio.

My plein air sketch of Battis Farm (that's the farm at the base of the hill on the far right)
Last week we painted at Maudslay State Park in Newbury, Mass. Donald brought something he had someone make for him that he was calling "The Hibbard Mitten." It's sort of like a wool sock without a heel, or else a mitten without a thumb... you stick the paintbrush right through the loosely knitted fabric.

The Hibbard Mitten(TM)
I saw immediately that it was "my color" and ended up winning it in a rock-paper-scissors contest with Tom Bailey. Works great! It's named for Aldro Hibbard, dauntless snow-painter of New England winters past.

Hibbard sporting "The Hibbard Mitten" (TM)

Today I didn't need the mitten - it was over 50 in the sun, and I painted without a jacket. What a treat, considering I've been painting outdoors every month of 2015, including the bitter weeks and months of one of the worst winters on record here. It wasn't by design - I just got very stir crazy in the studio.

I was looking for ways to converge abstraction and representation and spent almost every day for a week making 8"x8" studies of the surface of a frozen pond (Flint's Pond in Hollis, NH). It was surely below zero with the wind on at least one of those days. Shortly after, I became interested in painting larger abstract interpretations of mountains full of snow and ice, which I'm still doing in my studio.

Black Mountain 18" x 18" (detail)

Doing so sent me back outside though, so I found myself in the White Mountains painting plein air in the snow again. I'm heading up to spend this weekend painting the Whites in Jackson, NH too.

White Mountains, plein air, February 2015

Painting from life - and if you're a landscape painter, that means plein air - I think is essential for developing a vocabulary of space, color, light, and expression. But to what extent should that mean painting "what you see?"

Driving over, I was mulling over a conversation that began in my abstraction class, which I teach at the Arts League of Lowell, over the whys and wherefores of abstraction in representational painting. We came to no conclusions, of course, but it did occur to me that in plein air painting the degree of realism or abstraction hardly matters in the end, although either can derail the mission - as in all my work, my mission (all too easily lost sight of) is to express a strongly felt sensation of human reality.

And if the goal is to render something beautiful and moving, does the degree of detail really matter? Depends on what's being expressed, I guess. It's about an embodiment of the painter's "vision" though, right? What else really matters?

Coming this May

Join me for three days painting in the heart of the White Mountains May 3-6, 2015. I will be conducting this workshop in the capacity of the official Artist in Residence of the Appalachian Mountain Club's Highland Center in Crawford Notch. The workshop will kick off with an evening presentation on White Mountain painting past and present, providing context and inspiration. We will paint for the next three days, updating the tradition of White Mountain painting with a contemporary perspective. For more info or to sign yourself up, check out this page on the AMC's Highland Center site.