Honey, I’m home!

The Delaware Water Gap, 9X12, painted on another stopover along Route 80.
Well my rig’s a little old,
But that don’t mean she’s slow.
There’s a flame from her stack,
And the smoke’s rolling black as coal.
My hometown’s coming in sight,
If you think I’m happy you’re right.
Six days on the road and I’m gonna make it home tonight…

(Six Days on the Road, by Earl Green and Carl Montgomery)


The beauty of traveling from New York City to the western part of New York is that you can bypass much of the state itself. In addition to cheap New Jersey gas and the absence of New York’s exorbitant tolls, traveling via US 80 allows you to pass through the Delaware Water Gap, which is surely one of America’s unsung natural wonders. I have often stopped to paint there, and I always stop to walk a little way along the Delaware River.

The Delaware Water Gap looking picturesque today.
Today the park rangers were stringing plastic tape preparatory to closing the park entrances, in anticipation of a government shutdown tonight. It’s an absurd gesture, since most of the costs of the park—mowing and maintenance—will continue whether or not we travelers are allowed to stop or not.

They’re ready to close the park entrances in the case of a government shut-down tonight. Pity, this.
I wasn’t going to paint today in any event. But it is a transcendent autumn day with glorious clear, golden light, and puffy clouds. The Poconos are at their peak of autumnal color, and the far hills vibrate violet-blue. Some days aren’t meant to be painted; they’re meant to be remembered.
The Poconos are at peak color right now, but it’s hard to take photos while driving.
One more workshop left this year! Join me in October, 2013 at Lakewatch Manor—which is selling out fast—or let me know if you’re interested in painting with me in 2014. Click here for more information on my Maine workshops!

Seven Days of the Group of Seven—Frank Johnston (1888-1949), FH Varley (1881-1969), and Arthur Lismer (1885-1969)

As you’ve probably realized, there were more than seven Group of Seven painters, and I’ve devoted more than seven days to them. I love them because they combine the freshness of impressionism with a love for the northern landscape. Here are the last three…


The Shadowed Valley, by Frank Johnston
Born in Toronto, Frank Johnston also worked as a commercial artist for Grip, Ltd. He exhibited with The Group of Seven only once, in their first show at the Art Gallery of Toronto (now the Art Gallery of Ontario) in May, 1920. 
Johnston was an extremely fast painter, which allowed him the luxury of many one-man shows. In 1921, he moved to Winnepeg. He resigned from the Group of Seven shortly thereafter, explaining that there had been no rupture, but that he wanted to exhibit on his own.  
Stormy Weather, Georgian Bay, 1920, FH Varley

Born in Sheffield, England, FH Varley studied art in Britain and Belgium. He immigrated to Canada on the advice of his friend and future Group of Seven co-member, Arthur Lismer, to work at Grip, Ltd.

Varley was an officially designated war artist during WWI, and is primarily remembered for that work. He accompanied Canadian troops in the Hundred Days offensive from Amiens, France to Mons, Belgium. His combat paintings were based on his experiences at the front.
Isles of Spruce, 1922, Arthur Lismer
Varley’s childhood chum Arthur Lismer also studied art in Britain and Belgium. He preceded Varley in coming to Canada (in 1911) to work for Grip, Ltd. 
Lismer was also an Official War Artist during WWI, although he was stationed in Halifax, not in Europe. From 1916-1919, Lismer was President of the Victoria School of Art and Design (now the Nova Scotia College of Art and Design).
Join me in October, 2013 at Lakewatch Manor—which is selling out fast—or let me know if you’re interested in painting with me in 2014. Click here for more information on my Maine workshops!

Seven Days of the Group of Seven—AY Jackson (1882-1974)

I’m off to Maine and Rye! I’m leaving some of my favorite landscape paintings for you—works by Canada’s mighty Group of Seven painters. I love them because they combine the freshness of impressionism with a love for the northern landscape.

The Edge of the Maple Wood, 1910, AY Jackson
As a young boy, Jackson worked as an office boy for a lithographer (there’s a trend here) after his father abandoned his six children. It was here that Jackson began his art training.
In his early 20s, Jackson worked his way to back and forth to Europe on a cattle boat, returning to settle in Chicago, where he took classes at the Art Institute. By 1907, he’d saved enough money to go to Paris to study painting.
On his return to Canada, he achieved recognition but no financial success, until The Edge of the Maple Wood was purchased by Lawren Harris. Jackson began corresponding with Harris and JEH MacDonald, which drew Jackson into the Group of Seven orbit.
Frozen Lake, Early Spring, Algonquin Park, 1914, AY Jackson
As the most traditionally-trained of the Toronto painters, it’s no surprise that Jackson is in some ways the most conventional among them. But it would be a mistake to dismiss him for that. Jackson evokes the bracing atmosphere of the northern woods like nobody else, and he scrupulously avoids the Art Nouveau stylings that sometimes impinge on Group of Seven paintings. He’s brutally honest about what he sees; the shadow in the foreground of The Edge of the Maple Wood, for example, is not there for compositional reasons.
Join me in October, 2013 at Lakewatch Manor—which is selling out fast—or let me know if you’re interested in painting with me in 2014. Click here for more information on my Maine workshops!

Seven Days of the Group of Seven—Lawren Harris (1882-1974)

I’m off to Maine and Rye! I’m leaving some of my favorite landscape paintings for you—works by Canada’s mighty Group of Seven painters. I love them because they combine the freshness of impressionism with a love for the northern landscape.


Winter Landscape with Pink House, 1918, Lawren Harris
If Tom Thomson was the artistic godfather of the Group of Seven, Lawren Harris was its beating heart. I adore the man, and not just for his absurd hair.
He was born into a wealthy industrialist family, and had the excellent education of a coming man of his time, including foreign study in Berlin. After the requisite dabbling in Theosophy and marriage and children, he became interested in art. Being wealthy, he was able to travel across Canada to paint; being generous, he sponsored trips for other Group of Seven painters.
From the North Shore, Lake Superior, 1927, by Lawren Harris
Harris’ was an artistically-restless soul; he evolved constantly, from the heavy-impasto paintings of Algoma and Georgian Bay to his simple, silent, ethereal depictions of the Great White North. By the late 1930s, he was painting pure abstraction.
  
Join me in October, 2013 at Lakewatch Manor—which is selling out fast—or let me know if you’re interested in painting with me in 2014. Click here for more information on my Maine workshops!

Seven Days of the Group of Seven—Tom Thomson (1877-1917)

I’m off to Maine and Rye! I’m leaving some of my favorite landscape paintings for you—works by Canada’s mighty Group of Seven painters. I love them because they combine the freshness of impressionism with a love for the northern landscape.
The Jack Pine, 1917, Tom Thomson
I’m well aware that Tom Thomson was never a Group of Seven painter—he died before the group was formed. But his was the artistic force that set them on their path.
As a graphic designer with Grip, Ltd, Thomson was in a position to influence a generation of artists. He himself was largely self-taught. His career as a painter was shockingly brief—he started painting seriously in 1912, and was dead five years later.  In that short time he produced hundreds of small field sketches.
The Drive, 1916, Tom Thomson
Many of Thomson’s major paintings began as field sketches before being expanded at his studio, an old utility shack with a wood-burning stove on the grounds of the Studio Building, an artist’s enclave in Rosedale, Toronto. Thomson sold few of these paintings in his lifetime.
Thomson disappeared during a canoeing trip in Algonquin Park on July 8, 1917. His body was discovered in Canoe Lake eight days later. Although the official cause was accidental drowning, there have been questions raised about his death ever since.
Join me in October, 2013 at Lakewatch Manor—which is selling out fast—or let me know if you’re interested in painting with me in 2014. Click here for more information on my Maine workshops!

Seven Days of the Group of Seven—AJ Casson (1898-1992)

I’m off to Maine and Rye! I’m leaving some of my favorite landscape paintings for you—works by Canada’s mighty Group of Seven painters. I love them because they combine the freshness of impressionism with a love for the northern landscape.
Housetops in the Ward, 1924, AJ Casson (he did versions in oil and watercolor)
 AJ Casson went to work at age 15 as an apprentice at a Hamilton, Ontario, lithographer. The value of that apprenticeship is apparent in his painting: he is a consistently brilliant designer.
Lake Qushog, 1925, AJ Casson
The first public exhibition of his work was at the Canadian National Exhibition, in 1917. As an engraver, he inevitably found himself in the Group of Seven’s orbit and was encouraged to sketch and paint. Through the 1920s, he painted in his spare time alone and with the others. He was formally included in the group when Frank Johnston left in 1921.

Join me in October, 2013 at Lakewatch Manor—which is selling out fast—or let me know if you’re interested in painting with me in 2014. Click here for more information on my Maine workshops!

Seven Days of the Group of Seven—Frank Carmichael (1890-1945)

I’m off to Maine and Rye! I’m leaving some of my favorite landscape paintings for you—works by Canada’s mighty Group of Seven painters. I love them because they combine the freshness of impressionism with a love for the northern landscape.
Autumn Hillside, 1920, Frank Carmichael
The youngest of the original Group of Seven, Franklin Carmichael was born in 1890 in Orillia, north of Toronto. He moved to Toronto at age 20 and enrolled in the Ontario College of Art. In 1911, he started working as an apprentice at Grip, Ltd., a Toronto design firm that was home to many of Canada’s great visual artists. Carmichael was greatly influenced by Tom Thomson.
Autumn in Orillia, 1924, Frank Carmichael
The challenge of the northern woods is that it isn’t a set of discrete objects, but rather a complex tapestry. Atmospheric perspective, depth and modeling are less important than the color patterns and the drawing. Carmichael captures that shimmering quality of autumn in the woods perfectly.
Join me in October, 2013 at Lakewatch Manor—which is selling out fast—or let me know if you’re interested in painting with me in 2014. Click here for more information on my Maine workshops!

Seven Days of the Group of Seven—Edwin Holgate (1892-1977)

I’m off to Maine and Rye! I’m leaving some of my favorite landscape paintings for you—works by Canada’s mighty Group of Seven painters. I love them because they combine the freshness of impressionism with a love for the northern landscape.

Nude in a Landscape, 1930, Edwin Holgate
Edwin Holgate was primarily known as a portraitist and for his outdoor nudes. He was considered the “eighth member” of the Group of Seven. He was invited to join the group in 1930.

Fish Houses, Labrador, Edwin Holgate, wood engraving
Holgate integrated his figures in his landscapes by making no distinction between the human form and the other natural forms. The flesh of this nude is as immutable as the rocks behind her. This is true also of the monumental fisherman in his woodcut.

Join me in October, 2013 at Lakewatch Manor—which is selling out fast—or let me know if you’re interested in painting with me in 2014. Click here for more information on my Maine workshops!

Seven Days of the Group of Seven—JEH MacDonald (1873-1932)

I’m off to Maine and Rye! I’m leaving some of my favorite landscape paintings for you—works by Canada’s mighty Group of Seven painters. I love them because they combine the freshness of impressionism with a love for the northern landscape.

The Tangled Garden, 1916, JEH MacDonald 
At the age of 14, JEH MacDonald moved with his family from England to Hamilton, Ontario. He studied commercial art in Toronto, where he was active in Toronto Art Student League. In November 1911, MacDonald exhibited sketches at the Arts and Letters Club of Toronto, which brought him to the attention of Lawren Harris. In January 1913, an exhibit in Buffalo of Scandinavian Impressionist paintings gave him a sense of how Impressionism could be suited to the wild northern landscape.
At first glance, The Tangled Garden appears to be a fairly conventional essay into impressionism, owing a lot to Van Gogh. But MacDonald’s background as a graphic designer is apparent in the closely managed composition, which leaves nothing to chance but still manages to appear utterly fresh.
The Supply Boat, 1915-16, JEH MacDonald  
Join me in October, 2013 at Lakewatch Manor—which is selling out fast—or let me know if you’re interested in painting with me in 2014. Click here for more information on my Maine workshops!

Artisan This

Artisan Tostitos? Seriously?

I’m thinking of a new advertising slogan: Artisan Art. In a world where one can buy Artisan Bread, Artisan Cheese, and mass-produced Artisan Tortilla Chips,the term “artisan” has been devalued. May as well jump right in.

During the Renaissance, the individuality of the artist was not of particular importance—he was celebrated for his competence at composition, drafting and rendering.(The outlier in this was Rembrandt, who did not in fact achieve his greatest fame until his rediscovery in the 19th century.) With the Industrial Revolution, the expressive aspects of art became more valued. This trend accelerated with the convulsive wars that engulfed the world in the 19th and 20th centuries. Mechanized death is the ultimate dehumanizer; in response we sought the very personal in art.
By the middle of the twentieth century, the artist’s personal expression, his mark-making, and his subjective viewpoint were paramount. We have now swung back a little from that place, but until the world stops being a machine, the artist will never again hide behind a perfectly-realized technique.
 Tsujita LA Artisan Noodle. In the old days, we called this “cooking.”
That’s true in the fine arts, but is it true in craft? I think so. The proliferation of the term artisan reflects a general longing for hand-craft. My friend Jane Bartlettis both an artist (when she dyes fabrics) and an artisan (when she assembles those fabrics into wearable garments).
But the term is somehow cheapened when applied to routine competence. To draw a distinction between two bagel shops because one has “artisans” boiling their bagels and one has bakers boiling their bagels is just plain silly.

Join me in October, 2013 at Lakewatch Manor—which is selling out fast—or let me know if you’re interested in painting with me in 2014. Click here for more information on my Maine workshops!