I’m looking forward to the 2022 Canyon Road Spring Art Festival this Saturday May 7th. I’ll be out in the New Mexico sunshine at Ventana Fine Art painting from 11-3. It’s an annual rite of the season when dozens of artists set up their easels outside galleries on Canyon Road and thousands of art lovers stroll the road and make it a party!
Stop by and say hello. I’ll be the guy in front of a brightly colored landscape painting with brush in hand and a big smile on my face!
I’m in the studio with pastel in hand because today’s the day to send thank you gifts to all my collectors who contributed to my daughter Sarsten’s Go Fund Me campaign.
I’m happy to report that, with help from many of you, she met her goal, the music video is in production, and will be going online (and going viral if I have anything to say about it) mid June.
Check back, we’ll be posting the link to the video “Poison The Well” by her band, Surprise Baby.
It was a coloristic decision. Not one influenced by song lyrics. Honest! But there is something iconic about purple mountains isn’t there? And I feel that, given the fact I hold in my possession a valid and recently renewed artistic license, I can paint those mountains any darn color I choose. Even purple!
And it is a beautifully hopeful song lyric. And we can never have too much hope.
“Oh, beautiful, for spacious skies” Lyrics by Katherine Lee Bates
A couple weeks ago I talked about having been recently influenced by the work of Piet Mondrian. And I mentioned that I thought it was possible that the elements that had a little similarity to his work might become veiled as I finished my painting. That, I believe, was an understatement. I think obliterated would better describe what occurred!
With some effort you can still see the highly graphic underpainting that I started with. But, as is often the case when I have a brush in hand and no one to stop me, I took this piece in an entirely different direction. Or maybe this piece took me in an entirely different direction. Regardless, it doesn’t look much like a Mondrian anymore, does it?
Spring is in the air in Northwest Montana! We’ve switched to yellow wax on our skis and are enjoying velvety soft snow on Big Mountain.
A few thousand feet lower in elevation the course is open and the greens are greening up at Buffalo Hill Golf Club. It’s still a bit chilly in the morning on the links, and it’s getting a bit too warm in the afternoon on the ski runs.
So that can mean only one thing. It is officially “Ski in the morning, Golf in the afternoon season!”
Lately I’ve been looking at the work of Dutch abstract painter Piet Mondrian, one of the pioneers of 20th century abstract art. Take a look at his paintings and it will be easy to see his influence on this, the beginnings of my newest work. If this painting goes where I think it’s going, the Mondrianesque references will become quite veiled and less obvious when the painting is finished. We’ll see what happens. I’ll post a picture of the completed work.
Here’s a quote from Mondrian that rings true for me.
“I believe it is possible that, through horizontal and vertical lines constructed with awareness, but not with calculation, led by high intuition, and brought to harmony and rhythm, these basic forms of beauty, supplemented if necessary by other direct lines or curves, can become a work of art, as strong as it is true.”
It’s not usual for my horizon to slide toward the bottom of a painting. But, from time to time, I’m inspired by how the SKY looks! Case in point, this view looking west from Eldorado, New Mexico. Not to say we don’t have gorgeous skies here in old Montana. But this particular sky stuck in my memory, and it’s been niggling (is that a word?) away at me ever since. More often than not the horizon floats up toward the very top of my painting. But here’s an example of an atypical approach to my usually “high in the frame” horizon line.
I fear this is becoming somewhat esoteric, isn’t it. Regardless, it’s a dang fine looking sky, don’t you think?
PS: If this painting strikes your fancy it just arrived at Lustre Gallery in Telluride.
This is an exciting time of year for me! For the last two plus decades I’ve had an exhibition in Santa Fe opening in early July. So that means every spring I’m in the thick of painting with my show at Ventana Fine Art in mind.
Here’s a sneak peek. This is my current favorite. I love how the cool blues and greens in the foreground move back visually, while the warm reds and oranges in the background, jump forward. Visually speaking that is. Visually speaking? Is that an oxymoron?
As always, I’m already looking forward to my time in Santa Fe. We had red chile enchiladas for dinner at our house last night. Kind of like being in training!
So here’s the truth. And this really is the truth. I love to paint. And in order to have the luxury to stay fully engaged in that practice, somebody needs to sell my paintings! It is essential. Given THAT fact, I want to send out a huge, heartfelt thank you to the galleries that have provided me with such excellent representation for these many years. Most of whom I have been with for decades!
I stand before a canvas with brush in hand every morning, grateful to have a gang of talented, capable professionals who would like nothing better, on that very day, than to sell one of my paintings! Go team!
Here’s a painting of three young, stalwart ash trees we planted in our west pasture 15 or so years ago. Not the fastest growing trees, but the next generation of horses in the pasture will enjoy some afternoon shade!
If I were interested in creating a literal depiction of that particular landscape, which I am unrepentantly NOT interested in, you’d see a brand new house on top of the golden ridge behind the trees. The growth here is astounding, but not surprising, who wouldn’t want to live in this beautiful part of the world? We’re happy to have our new neighbors.
“Ch-Ch-Ch-Ch-Changes Turn and face the strange Ch-Ch-Changes Time may change me But I can’t trace time” ~ David Bowie