Plein Air
Denoting or in the manner of a 19th-century style of painting outdoors, popularized by John Constable, later becoming a central feature of French impressionism.
or
Painting outside.
I have found plein air painting to be a truly valuable pursuit. The contrast to the studio is total and with few practical advantages. Generally speaking, studios do not entertain gusts of wind energetic enough to topple easels and violently rearrange every paper towel tempting freedom.
On the other hand, movement of both materials and subject sets the stage for rapid, opportunistic painting. These pictures have never been gripped by excessive analysis. As light changes and clouds continue their journey through the atmosphere, the inclination to accurately reproduce the view in front of you is gently pried from your reluctant fingers. What does happen is deliciously intuitive, fresh and an honest attempt at capturing a slice of the world in one fleeting sliver of time. It is infuriatingly fantastic.
-Andrew
Painting the Welsh landscape｜September 2022
This was my third visit to this mountaintop in Wales. The first was a failed attempt to camp. Unbearable wind prompted a 10km, moonlit walk back to civilization. The second, in light of the first, was when I proposed to my fiancée. The third was to paint. Each time, needlessly windy. Painting in situ has the obvious advantage of an immediate and visceral connection to one’s subject but this place had an unusual element of familiarity. It is quite a magical place, being next to a lake while on the highest point around. It was hard to pass up the chance to paint such a scene and strangely, the added pressure of painting in such a punishing environment, namely the wind, seems to have produced a good painting. A reference image and some time in the studio finished it off.
Traveling painter｜August 2020.
This summer was host to a tremendous experiment. Plein air painting seemed to be deserving of a more adventurous context. I built a box for the bed of my truck which would serve as a home for me and my curiously accepting girlfriend. The aim was to quite simply drive into the woods and explore. We did so, never once paying for a campsite, replacing showers with lakes and quickly finding comfort in the woods of northern Ontario. Along the way, were opportunities to paint.
First, we camped at French River for two nights. I spent one afternoon standing in the wind, almost feeling the light change as clouds’ shadows tumbled across the ground. It was one of those sessions where many paintings were done over each other, attempting to balance out the extremes.
Later, we headed to Manitoulin Island.
This location was so magical, I will remember it forever. One day was so calm that I struggle to describe just how clear the water of Lake Huron was. Its pristine reflective surface was greeted by a serious sunset that lasted for hours. Before the blue turned to pink, I moved paint around on a panel, getting a feel for the slight shifts in tone and colour. This is the only time I have painted clouds that did not move an inch.
