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Jack Pines and Kentucky Fried Chicken

Schoodic Point breakers by Lynne Vokatis

Schoodic Point breakers by Lynne Vokatis (finished).
A visitor mentioned that Acadia’s Schoodic Peninsula seems much busier than it has in other years. I’d been thinking much the same thing. If so, that means the National Park Service’s investment in the Schoodic Woods campground has paid off handsomely.
My class was so gung-ho that they started 45 minutes early. Since I’m a morning person, that was fine with me, but I warned them they must get adequate rest. They wanted to finish paintings they’d started on Monday before we moved on. To that end, we returned to Schoodic Point.
Schoodic Institute provides bag lunches and snacks so we can stay out all day. At 11 AM we had fresh zucchini bread and grapes and moved to a far corner of the Point, where stunted Jack Pines break up the rock slopes.
A student asked me what a Jack Pine is. “Something Tom Thomson and theGroup of Seven painted,” I answered. I didn’t think it was a real species, just a term for a windblown boreal tree. Turns out I was wrong. Pinus banksiana is a tree of Canada that breaks out into a few boreal forests in the northernmost United States, including at Schoodic Point.
Lynne and her Jack Pines.

Lynne and her Jack Pines.
I think it’s helpful to know something about the rocks and trees one is painting. Schoodic is famous for basalt dikes running through older pink granite. Granite tends to fracture horizontally; basalt fractures vertically. Both fracture in cubes that then wear down with glacial slowness. Knowing this makes our drawings more accurate.
I gave Lynne a difficult assignment: to draw the Jack Pines using color in the place of value, like the Impressionists did. She was then to integrate local color into her work without doing any blending at all. The result was pure Tom Thomson.
Our new location among the pines was about as popular as Times Square. A stream of people continuously stopped to talk to my painters. I was debating what to do about that when my pal Renee Lammers stopped by with a bucket of Kentucky Fried Chicken for us. The party was on!
"Schoodic Point," by Corinne Avery.

“Schoodic Point,” by Corinne Avery (finished).
While Renee sold paintings and Sketch-n-Cans to the constant stream of visitors, my class painted, sketched and laughed. And then, at about 4:15, it was suddenly lights out for all of us. I tried to demo about color temperature and found myself hopelessly confused. My students felt the same way. We packed up and headed in for a rest before dinner.
Discussing drawing rocks with my students. (Photo courtesy of Susan Renee Lammers)

Discussing drawing rocks with my students. (Photo courtesy of Susan Renee Lammers)
One only gets a certain number of clear-headed work hours in a day. We like to believe we can push past that, and we can, for a limited time. But the quality and assurance of our work declines.
At six, we had a lobster feast in the cool, fresh air, and by 7:30, we were all tucked up in our rooms. All that fresh air, sunlight and exercise had taken its toll. We hope to catch the Perseid Meteor Shower later this week, so we can’t wear ourselves out now.

How’d that happen?

Underpainting (incomplete) of river snags, 48X36, by little ol’ me
My friend Sandy Sibley told me that my underpainting of northern lights reminded her of the Canadian painter Emily Carr. That’s quite flattering, but I don’t quite see it myself.
Yesterday’s underpainting went a little bit slower—in part because it’s complicated, in part because I’m working the color organization from my psyche, and in part because working from a chair is giving me terrific upper arm pain. (This too shall pass.)
Cedar Sanctuary, 1942, by Emily Carr
But it struck me as funny and strange that today’s painting reminds me of Emily Carr. It could be the subaquatic coloration of the distant trees, it could be the massive, simplified shapes, or it could be the vague menace of the foreground tree itself.
Born in Victoria, British Columbia, Emily Carr attended San Francisco Art Institute for two years before traveling to London to study at the now-defunct Westminster School of Art. A short-lived teaching gig in Vancouver ended due to Carr’s unladylike behavior—she smoked and swore. Once more she traveled abroad—this time to France, where she came in contact with Fauvism and post-Impressionism.
Blue Sky, 1932, by Emily Carr
Until 1927, Carr labored in obscurity, often quitting painting entirely. At an exhibition of West Coast aboriginal art at the National Gallery in Ottawa, Carr met members of the Group of Seven. “You are one of us,” Lawren Harris told her, and her role as a significant modern Canadian painter was assured.

Let me know if you’re interested in painting with me in Maine in 2014 or Rochester at any time. Click here for more information on my Maine workshops!

Two books I keep recommending that people buy, over and over…

Trouble is, I never remember their titles when I’m asked. 

The first is Kevin Macpherson’s Landscape Painting Inside & Out, which is a nice introduction to plein air painting by an extremely competent teacher and painter. If you like this book, you might also try his Fill Your Oil Paintings with Light &Color.
I was teaching in a small town in New Mexico when the dusty little square suddenly filled with painting students and their teacher, Kevin Macpherson. To me, that was the equivalent of a provincial singer suddenly confronted by Maria Callas, and I was quite unnerved. But he was extremely gracious.

The second book is The Group of Seven and Tom Thomson by David Silcox. If you want to understand the northern landscape, you must study the Group of Seven. However, painters from any region can benefit from studying how they paint into traps, see landscape mosaics, and use stylish design. And their ideology—the power of the Great White North—ain’t bad, either.
Daughter getting married in two days! Hanging on by a thread.
Let me know if you’re interested in painting with me in Maine in 2014 or Rochester at any time. 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!