Marco Island Part 6 (final): Kooky, Experimental

Posted by Aline on March 29, 2015

At long last I get to complete the report. I seem to have caught the same bug that laid me low for the month of February–probably from the plane home–and just hope that after only 8 days, I’m getting over this iteration of it.

I left you in my previous blog with 4 paintings to be posted. The first two are from one location on Collier Boulevard, farther South from our usual haunts. I discovered South Beach when we went in search of the beach wedding, and conceived the idea of one daylight painting showing the colorful, tree-lined boulevant with high-rise condo buildings behind, and a later one showing what happens at night, with lights lining the street and dotting the windows of the high-rises. Mary had other stuff to do that afternoon, so I was dropped at my chosen spot, by her always obliging husband, Frank. I set up in the swale between the boulevard and the sidewalk on the right side of the street. I got lots of welcome attention from low-rise residents from my side of the boulevard as they strolled by on their way to the beach. A few voiced a guess that I was painting the big, pink building that was my backdrop because I lived there. If only!

South Beach Residential

It certainly wasn’t a beautiful building, but it was an interesting building, and it was representative of the many such buildings lining the South Beach. (By the way, I decided to take these photos with my iPhone in order to be consistent with the ones already posted, but they didn’t come out as well as the ones that were photographed in the South Florida light. I was able to manipulate them so what you are seeing is pretty accurate–by reducing exposure, increasing contrast and saturation, and increasing red and yellow. Go figure!)

Mary came to pick me up after about 2 hours and we grabbed a quick supper at a nearby restaurant. By the time we had returned to the site, we had about 1 hour before sunset. I composed my picture by moving farther away and including more of the buildings on my left. I had basically a black and blue scene. Then the lights started to come on. Not in the pink building but on the grounds–Christmas-like lights wound around the three palm trees, fountains sprouted under spotlights, and walls and landscaping got their share of the drama. There were a few glows issuing from a few of the balconies, but very few.

South Beach Nocturne

Mary observed that many owners of condos on Marco spend only a few weeks at the time there since they tended to have many desirable locations to call home. It’s also possible that the windows are glazed with impenetrable coatings, like limos get. Anyway, the painting was my very first “nocturne”, which is what artists call a painting that depicts a night scene. Most nocturnes are painted in the studio, I’ll wager, but there are plein air nocturnists. I don’t know how they do it–shifting focus from darkened scene to lit painting seems impossible to me. I quit pretty soon after sundown. In order to pack up my gear, I deployed my cell phone flashlight, and one of my strolling admirers held it for me while I gathered up stuff. It was fun.

The next day was Tuesday, the day before my flight home. Every since I had been visiting Mary on Marco (2009), she had been mentioning her desire to paint a certain bridge. She already had one really good painting of it, but felt she could do even better one day. I asked her to make that day that Tuesday. So off we went, toward the Everglades, a road not heavily trafficked. I set up close to the road, so I got more of the dust blown our way by big trucks. It was a little unnerving to have the trucks barreling right at you, for we were on a curve. I have lived to tell the tale. It’s just what plein air painters have to do, you know, risking life and limb for their art!

My Bridge from Everglades, looking North

Here is Mary’s version in watercolor:

Mary’s Bridge

Since my flight wasn’t scheduled to take off until after 5 p.m. on Wednesday, we were able to meet up with the Wednesday Painters again, this time inside a private, gated community with its own beach and wildlife area. A marshy area caught my eye–the reflections mostly, but with a stray clump of marsh grass providing a great focal point. I set up with a view of the clump, next to the railings, and decided to include the railings in my composition. I suspected that the framing of the reeds by the fence contributed to my decision to paint the reeds.

Watery Home

Compare a cropped version without the railings:

Watery Home-Detail

So was I right? Or is the Detail better? Because I paint on paper, I can easily crop the painting for best presentation.

Here is a photo Mary took of me just before I started to pack up my gear–sorry about the absence of reds–fault of her iPhone sending, or mine receiving. The two wet paintings were ensconced in their Art Cocoons there to my right.

Aline Lotter is currently exhibiting:

at the East Colony Fine Art Gallery in Manchester (Langer Place, 55 S. Commercial St., Manchester, NH); at the Bartlett Inn in Bartlett; at the Bernerhof Inn in Glen; at the Red Jacket Inn in North Conway; and at the law offices of Mesmer and Deleault at 41 Brook St in Manchester.

As usual, you may view paintings with prices and order prints, iPhone cases and the like at my Fine Art America page. If the painting you are interested in is not there, or if you prefer to bypass that experience, you may contact me by email to alotter@mac.com.

If you want to add a public comment to this blog, go to the bottom of this page where it says “Leave a Reply”, and enter your comment in that box. I love to get public comments, so don’t be shy!

Final and Complete Report of Marco Island Painting Binge

Posted by Aline on February 19, 2014

After a snow-impeded itinerary, I finally returned to the winter wonderland that is New Hampshire. Another snow storm yesterday has locked me at home. The city didn’t bother to plow my little stub of a street until it was sure it could build a barricade at the bottom of my driveway worthy of good ol’ New England complaining. Still, I don’t mind . . . didn’t want to go anywhere today anyway, not when I have the lovely task of reliving my adventures in Marco Island, through this retelling.

All thirteen of my Marco 2014 paintings are painted on 9 x 12 carton paper, acquired from Judson’s Guerrilla Painter art supplies. Two paintings are candidates for cropping, as you will see. The first 8 were posted last week, using photos taken with my phone or my iPad. Now that I have new versions taken with my Nikon Digital SLR, I will include them again. A few have endured improvements since last week.

I would love to hear from my followers which painting(s) are their favorites.

Marco 2014 No. 1

This first painting is still one of my own favorites.

Marco 2014 No. 2

I added the sky and make other changes as planned. I can see room for more improvement–punchier lights on the foreground objects.

Marco 2014 No. 3 – The Beach

The quickest, simplest is the favorite of many people. I touched up the bird spots. Several had suggested making the spots into kites (the toy, not the bird), but I was concerned about bringing in that level of detail.

Marco 2014 No. 4 – Sea Grapes

Although I wanted to improve on the definition between light and shadow, I lacked the confidence to do anything about it.

Marco 2014 No. 5

The only improvement I made to No. 5 is the color of the shadows on the building. Less green, more blue.

Marco 2014 No. 6–Calusa Boat Yard

No changes to this one. But when I posted it last week, I didn’t include any narrative, and it deserves a narrative. On my right, over the railing, is a roof covering a shelf-like area where successful fishermen (women don’t seem to be into that kind of thing) can clean their fish. There’s a water spigot and a tube into which the waste is shoved, which apparently drops the waste somewhere in the water underneath, where the waiting pelicans cannot access it. There is a prominently posted sign forbidding the feeding of the pelicans. But they hover nevertheless. Because mistakes are made. Sometimes a particularly motivated fish escapes the grasp of the fisherman and dives in the waiting maw of a pelican.

I was in that spot because of the shadow afforded by the roof. So I was kind of in the way, but not so much as would require me to move. One of the fisherman wanted this painting, but he was willing to pay only $100 for it. I felt it was worth at least $200. I hope he’s sorry now!

Marco 2014 No. 7–Pond with girl and goose

I defined the figure of the little girl to show her posture better. She was a real little girl, but she never sat for me on the bank like that. The Canadian goose was one of a pair cruising around with a pair of Muscovy ducks. The walkway pavement really was a purply black.

Marco 2014 No. 8–dog walkers’ park

I reworked this painting a lot. The bridge alone got about four repaintings. A figure went in, came out; the original dog came out, a new one came in. I was looking for something expressive, trying to channel Van Gogh. Here was the previous version.

Marco 2014 No. 9

Mary lives on a golf course, of course. If you don’t live on either water or a golf course on Marco, you are doing something wrong. We reconnoitered the course but found nothing to inspire us to paint, but on our way back to her house, we both fell in love with this huge palm, catching light here and there, so that’s where I set up. It was close to the back door to her lanai (screened in terrace containing swimming pool–standard equipment in Florida). In the lanai, watching me closely, was her black cat, Tara. So I popped her in the painting. Jungle cat with green eyes.

Marco 2014 No. 10

Yet another park–the same where we had painted our picnic in the rain last year. Both Mary and I decided to paint the reflections in the lake. She draws in pencil, then paints in watercolor. (I had intended to take pictures of her paintings too, and share with you. But forgot until this minute. The fog of age.) Anyway, she takes a lot longer to complete a painting, what with all that drawing first. I was finished with mine, grousing about the difficulties (I have a list of them with respect to reflections), and was just diddling around with it when a huge flock of ducks swooped down and started swimming furiously around in circles. Whassup? I thought. A few of them climbed the bank over on the right, out of my frame, investigated, and returned to swimming in circles. Then arrived a man and woman laden with buckets. They dumped the contents of the buckets under the tree lately investigated by the scouter ducks, and a parade ensued. This was what the ducks were waiting for! Since I wasn’t doing anything important anyway, I stopped fussing over the ever-changing tree, grass and house reflections and changed up my pond to accommodate a representative grouping of circling ducks. Are the ducks too black? That’s how they appeared to me in that low light, silhouetted against the bright water.

Marco 2014 No. 11

Flo joined us, down from Cape Coral, and the three of us caught up with that same group of outdoor painters who go out each Wednesday to paint together at specific locations. This week’s location, the Esplanade, includes fountains, retail establishments, boats (moored to the right in this view), and lots of people. Rich people. We spread out. I chose to paint the bar because I thought it was time that I tried something really difficult. I had my eye on the bank of liquor bottles in the background. I spent all day on this one painting, and much of that time was spent repainting the elements, trying to get them to work together. Perhaps I overdid it. Does it look stilted?

Marco 2014 No. 12 – Vanda orchid

Although our weather was warm and sunny all the time I was there, one day was extremely windy. The three of us decided the better part of valor was staying in the shelter of the lanai and painting Mary’s Vanda orchid. I tried to mix up the color of the orchid from my various reds and blues, but it just wasn’t working–not even close–, so I borrowed some Magenta from Flo and voila! That made me curious about magenta–why wouldn’t it mix from blue and red? Turns out it is special; because blue and red don’t mix past purple on the spectrum of color–they don’t meet on the color spectrum. A synthetic red called quinacridone makes possible the purply red known as magenta or fuchsia. I am adding Magenta back to my palette and bowing respectfully to all quinacridones.

Marco 2014 No. 12 detail of orchid

Flo’s version of the orchid was more of a closeup, and just like a kid, when I saw her treatment, I decided I wanted that too, so here is my cropped version. Is it better than the one with roots in the foreground and swimming pool and palm tree in the background? By the way, I need to thank Deirdre Riley, who paints flowers awesomely; she advises what I call the big blob attack method of painting flowers, whereby you paint in the general shape of the entire arrangement, then pick out lights and darks to form the shapes of individual flowers. That approach stood me in good stead with this extraordinary plant with a single stem smothered with individual flowers.

Last, but certainly not least, here is the cut-down version that I prefer:

Marco 2014 No. 13 v.2 (6×12)

Before cropping, this is the painting:

Marco 2014 No. 13 (9×12)

I haven’t actually cut it up yet, so if you think I am wrong to do so, please tell me now. Not later!

The location is the Rose Marina, where I have painted before, but this time we explored our way around the water to a residential neighborhood that has this view of the action. Notice there is a major bow sticking its nose in at the right. While I was painting, this ship, the Marco Island Princess, got underway with its passengers for a sunset cruise in the Gulf . . . analogous to a Mount Washington dinner cruise on Lake Winnepesaukee, but much smaller. The foreground is a grassy knoll that drops down to the water out of your view (and mine), which complicates your understanding of what is happening. That’s why I prefer the cropped version. Yes, there are a couple of pelicans in the painting.

Aline Lotter is currently exhibiting:

at the Hatfield Gallery and the East Colony Fine Art Gallery in Manchester (both are in Langer Place, 55 S. Commercial St., Manchester, NH); at the Gallery at 100 Market Street in Portsmouth; at the Bartlett Inn in Bartlett; at the Red Jacket Inn in North Conway; at the law offices of Mesmer and Deleault at 41 Brook St in Manchester; at the Manchester office of Congresswoman Carol Shea Porter; and at her studio by appointment (email: alotter@mac.com).

You may also view paintings with prices and order prints at my Fine Art America page. If the painting you are interested in is not there, or if you prefer to bypass that experience, you may contact me using this feedback form.

Reporting from Marco Island

Posted by Aline on February 10, 2014

I’ve been here since Tuesday, getting out of the snowpath in the nick of time. Lucky, lucky me! We’ve been painting every day, 4or 5 hours each day. I have 8 nearly finished paintings, 9 by 12.

For our first outing we joined a group of outdoor painters who get together Wednesdays, and this Wednesday we were invited into and around the “Gingerbread Cottage”, a private residence owned by a couple of gardeners and dog lovers. They had won a prize for their landscaping, and they locked the dogs up for the day. About 20 artists were tucked away in nooks and crannies on the property, for it was not a large lot. Tiny pathways separated beds of stuff that I got to know as house plants. We got there late, having been delayed by a visit to the farmers market. Most of the nooks and crannies were already either occupied or being painted. I settled in a shady spot where I was assured I was not blocking anybody’s view of her subject. Then I surveyed the scene to divine a subject of my own. I thought, well ok, for the first time my first painting will not be the best one. So what! But maybe it will be the best.

This view is from almost the same spot. Some of the artists who had arrived before us were leaving or relocating, so I got a spot with a view of our hosts’ dock and next door neighbors. Maybe “next door” isn’t quite the correct term if you need a boat to go borrow a cup of sugar. You’ll notice I haven’t put in a sky yet. Among other improvements I plan are sun-lighting the plant and post at right, about half, at an angle pointing in and down; darkening the shadow behind the boat; and inserting a bit of white reflection in the water below the boat.

Mary likes to paint beaches, so the next day we spent in the sand. We had not only fog but heavy cloud cover. I was drawn to the shiny white line of sunlight breaking through the clouds way in the distance. Of course that condition could not last long, so I painted very fast. I had finished by the time the sun reached me. A few repairs are needed–those brown dots in the sky are unwelcome volunteers. The black streak can stay–it makes a good swooping bird of prey. I used up some old clotted paint to mix my gray sand, and made a virtue of its texture.

The arrival of hot sunlight chased me under a tiki hut, where I found this sea grape plant arranging itself in a pleasing composition.

Yes, this is painting no. 1, enlarged. Working on the iPad is awkward, and things don’t always go where I intended them to go. In fact, this reporting is exhausting me. I’m going to try to upload the next 4 all at once, omitting comments.

Two Works Progressing

Posted by Aline on January 27, 2014

I painted a second layer on my Oscar Night piece entitled “Illustrating Heroic Effort”. I tackled it intending only to tinker with the background, but the figure jumped under my brush. Also, I thought I should let you know a little secret: that painting does not come in the horizontal shape that I shared with you last week. My composition required that horizontal format, but I didn’t want to use a large, expensive, stretched canvases for this short-term-gratification project, and I didn’t want to buy a custom frame for it. My solution was to center the action on a 12×16 canvas and paint black voids at top and bottom so that the illustrated part looks as if it is coming to you via TV, where the wide-screen movies are presented with black bands top and bottom.

Oscar Night phase 2

Here, for the sake of comparison, is phase 1:

Illustrating Heroic Effort

The biggest change that I have made to Version 2 is the darkened background. Peter Granucci has taught me that every well-designed painting is either mostly light, or mostly dark. I was having trouble deciding which way I wanted to go with this one. Version 1 is the mostly light version, with the dark accents (also necessary) being the shadow side of the figure. This version 2 is a mostly dark version, with the highlights (again necessary) being the lit side of the figure. However, the sky and ocean are also light. Too much light perhaps, for a mostly dark painting. I’m leaning toward returning to mostly light. I think the black voids on top and bottom go better with the higher key value scheme.

After painting this layer, I received belated but good advice from Cameron Bennett, who, as an illustrator himself (which I had forgotten because all the courses I took with him were for doing portraits), took an interest in my ruminations re illustration vs. Fine Art.

Oops! That term “Fine Art” beacons me down a detour that I eschewed last week but can no longer suppress (what? you never mixed a metaphor?): so many terms used in the field of art are terms that sound generalized but that have come down to us with meanings very specific. Fine Art is not art that is lovely or “fine” but something that is created to be sold in an art gallery or be exhibited in an art museum. A lot of it is not lovely. “Genre” usually would mean a “kind” or “category” of painting; instead, it refers to a specific subject matter (ordinary people and places, daily life) for painting. “Modern Art” doesn’t mean art that is modern, in the sense of being made today–not even in the sense of breaking away from classical traditions; Modern Art refers to a specific collection of nonrepresentational art made between 1900 and 1950, give or take. (“Nonrepresentational” means, at least as I am using it here, without attempt or desire to accurately represent reality.) “Contemporary Art” used to mean art that is made by living artists, but now it excludes representational art and includes dead artists, and is working its way toward meaning the nonrepresentational art of the period between 1950 and . . . ? I wonder if this sort of morphing of general terms into terms of art (pun slightly intended) occurs in other fields as well. I can’t think of any in the field of law.

Anyway, Cameron gave me some specific suggestions that I hope to implement before my annual Florida trip (next week). Mainly, the hands are not sufficiently suggestive of motion. It just looks like I can’t paint hands. (Maybe I should insert well-painted hands in a box in the corner so as to squelch that impression.) Version 2 might be a little better in this regard. The increased blurriness just happened when I painted the new background over the hands.

My other Work in Progress is actually no longer in progress, but I have the in-progress photo to show you where I was with it at midpoint. This was a two-session pose, so I chose a larger canvas (20×16) for it.

Soft Treatment wip

At this point, I was intending to paint the pattern on the coverlet and was also prepared to fuss quite a bit with the yellow drape.

Formalism with Becky

By the following week, I had lost interest in the coverlet and had become more concerned with unifying the color scheme. So I slashed ruthlessly at the drapings.

I never did get around to painting the left side of the (unstretched) canvas. I can cut away those two inches, but if I do, I’ll have to saw down a panel to mount it on and order a custom-sized frame for it. I’m not sure it’s worthy of that much respect. If only the facial expression hadn’t turned out to be so snarky!

Here’s how it would look as a 12×16:

Cropped Version

Strangely, I find I miss that slashed coverlet treatment, which probably demonstrates how schizoid I am between classical representation and modernistic suggestion-of-reality representation.

Thank you for listening to me work this all out. I see now that what I need to do is fix that snarky expression and then reevaluate the amount of respect due this painting.

Aline Lotter is currently exhibiting:

Marco Island Paintings Part Two

Posted by Aline on March 7, 2013

Each painting has a story, but 14 stories is a bit much to ask my followers to, um, follow, so I am just adding a few comments underneath, same as I did for Mary’s paintings in my prior post. Super-short stories, in effect. Unlike the spread of Mary’s paintings, I organized mine in chronological order to the best of my memory.

We were huddled behind some shrubbery seeking shelter from stiff winds on a relatively chilly day (for the tropics), so the subject was not selected by inspiration but forced by necessity. Usually my first painting turns out to be the best, or at least one of the best, in a series of outdoor paintings. As I was working on this one, I thought it was going to be an exception to that “rule”, but now I am liking it better. . .probably because I am far enough away from the scene to be able to forget reality.

Island Woman. It becomes a scene of intense frolicness (frolicity?) on the weekends, but we wouldn’t have been able to park anywhere close then, much less find a place to set up easels.

Lanai Sunset. Strictly speaking, not plein air, but inspired by sight, memory and assisted by iPad photo. Perhaps still a work in progress.

Waterfront Home. The boats are up in the air on hoists, and I worried about how it would read. But not important now, I think. The water looks liquid, don’t you agree?

Frangepani Tree. Economy of effort:–beautiful bark, few leaves, and blossoms rationed to bloom at the ends of branches for short time. This one had buds but no blooms yet.

Farmers Market Musician. We were chased out of the grounds proper and forced to set up behind the “band”. Lucky for us!

Octagonal house. Occasionally, we can’t resist recording the unusual.

MarGood Park View from the Gazebo. Our 2d visit to this spot. Behind me was the skiff that I painted two days before. It was while I was working on this scene that I got skiff-owner’s request to purchase my painting of his boat and his dog. I posted that news here. Pelican landed just in time to get included in the painting.

Dinner! These are six of the 2 dozen blue crabs that I received in partial payment for the skiff-dog painting. Don’t they look delicious? (I think they were blue before being steamed.)

Fishing under the Jolley Bridge. Had highest hopes for this one, but now worry it has missed the mark. There is a slight curve in the bridge, so don’t get on my case about perspective!

Waterside Dining. That’s how they characterize it. I left out the blue dolphin that Mary chose to feature. Dolphins all over the city, like moose sculptures in NH. Cows in Chicago. Gnus in New London. (look it up)

Two Tiny Visitors to Residents Beach. What? You don’t see them? I thought they were warblers, but the bird book suggests they are more likely wrens. Also met my first Red Knots and Brewer’s Blackbirds in the course of making this painting. (Beach is to the right, past the vegetation barrier.)

Plein Air Still Life? I’m always saying: I don’t “do” still lifes. This not really “still” because the light keeps moving!

Morning of my Travel Day: San Marco R.C. Church. Foreground, what foreground? What can you do with a parking lot? Had to pack up and catch plane in afternoon, so I forgot to get photo of Mary’s version, which was excellent.

I hope that adds up to fourteen. I wish I had a better photo of number 15, which I had to leave in Florida with its happy new owner. I took a photo of Stephen holding his painting, but it turned out horrible. Here instead is a photo of my collector, which I lifted from the Naples Daily News, online edition.

Crabby Stephen

He may look like he only knows about collecting (and cooking) crabs, but he is also experienced in matting and framing, so the painting is in the best of hands. I asked him to send photo of painting when and as framed.

Aline Lotter is currently exhibiting:

at the Hatfield Gallery in Manchester (Langer Place, 55 S. Commercial St., Manchester, NH); at the Bartlett Inn in Bartlett; at the Red Jacket Inn in North Conway; at her law offices at 41 Brook St in Manchester; and at her studio by appointment.

Through March 29, you can also view (and purchase–of course!) my 6×6’s at the Artstream Gallery in Rochester, NH.

If you happen to be near Tampa, Florida on March 7, 8, and 9, you could (and should) catch Nude Nite, happening with music and other entertainment at 3606 E. 4th Ave., in Tampa. Hours are 6 pm to midnight. (Nude NITE, after all)

Marco Island Paintings Part One: M.C. Reining

Posted by Aline on February 24, 2013

I returned from my two-week painting vacation on Marco Island with 14 paintings, and the next two days was back to painting and drawing nudes. Too much for one blogpost anyway, so I am deferring for a few days the pleasure of showing my art in favor of first displaying the artworks created by my Marco Island hostess, Mary Crawford Reining.

On most occasions, we were looking in the roughly same direction to paint if not the same scene, neighboring scenes. You will be able to identify a few exceptions (most prominently the boat featured in my previous posting). You might find it interesting to compare our different treatments of the same subjects. But it would be like comparing apples to oranges, which I understand is not a good thing to do. Mary is a watercolorist (she claims to switch from medium to medium, but I have only seen her painting with watercolors in the five years that I have been plein air painting with her) and her style is looser than mine. I have noticed that the more experienced an artist is, the more successfully they attain looseness. Mary is very experienced, having studied art and having taught art, and, most importantly, having never in all those years ceased to think and behave like an artist.