Off Quoddy Head 9x12 Oil by Michael Chesley Johnson SOLD
Another beautiful week just ended here in Lubec, Maine. For this workshop, we had mostly sunny skies, a morning with a few errant drops, and otherwise overwhelmingly pleasant weather. I thought I'd share a few photos from the week, as well as three demonstration paintings.
I am off now for a few weeks before my next workshop (August 7-10, which still has space for another eager painter, details of which are at www.PleinAirPaintingMaine.com). But now I have three articles to write with illustrative paintings to make in the meantime. I'm also working on my next newsletter, which should be out later this week. If you haven't signed up for my newsletters, you can do so here.
I also have some exciting news that I will share at the end of next week. Stay tuned!
Our happy workshop group
Demonstrating at the edge
Spot the painter!
Downeast Sunshine 9x12 Oil by Michael Chesley Johnson SOLD
Summer Sun 9x12 Oil by Michael Chesley Johnson SOLD
The Cannery that Was 9x12 Pastel by Michael Chesley Johnson AVAILABLE - $200 incl shipping to US
In my plein air painting workshops, we spend a couple of days talking about color and color mixing. Two days really isn't enough time! As primarily a landscape painter, I've spent the last 20 years focusing mostly on just one of color's attributes, temperature, which I consider to be essential to understanding how to capture the feeling of light. So, to help my students learn a little more about color in our limited time together, I often suggest that they go to the Gamblin web site and watch the following video, "Navigating Color Space." It gives them a jump-start on our discussions.
In this video, Robert Gamblin lays out clearly how color works in what he calls "color space." You may be familiar with the color wheel. "Color space" adds a third dimension to the wheel, so it becomes more of a cylinder. Hue, value and chroma are fully represented in it. (I consider that color has a fourth attribute, temperature, and Gamblin addresses this in the video, considering it more a quality of hue rather than being a separate attribute.) I recommend this 20-minute video to everyone.
My new season of plein air painting workshops in Downeast Maine started up yesterday. This week, we have my usual small group (which is by choice, as it minimizes impact on the landscape and allows me to spend more time with participants) with students from Massachusetts, Florida, Nova Scotia, New York and Maine. It's always a pleasure to teach people from away, as they often come from interesting places and are new to the Downeast environment. I love sharing this world with them.
My demonstration in an early state
Yesterday, while much of the country was blistering under 90-degree-plus heat, we enjoyed a cool 58 degrees! Because of the fog, the locals called it a "soft morning," and we welcomed it. We painted down by the historic McCurdy fish houses on Water Street, where the fog was come-and-go.
If you are looking for an escape from the heat where you live, you should know I still have space in some of my workshops here:
July 10-13, 2018- all level workshop in Lubec, Maine - sign up August 7-10, 2018- all level workshop in Lubec, Maine - sign up August 21-24, 2018 - Workshop at Acadia Workshop Center in Bernard, Maine - Details and registration here August 28-31, 2018 - Advanced workshop for painters with outdoor experience in Lubec, Maine - sign up
I hope you'll join us!
You'll get lots of attention in my Maine workshops
Painting the "Old" Sligachan Bridge from beneath the "new" Sligachan bridge
Trina and I are settling back into our home and studio on Campobello Island, but the month in Scotland is still very fresh for us. Soon, however, we will be busy with summertime projects—my plein air painting workshops start next week, plus I have some articles to write for The Artist's Magazine—but I wanted to pen one last post on Scotland before that happens.
I thought it would be enjoyable for everyone to see all the sketches I made on the trip in one post. I've added them below. You'll note a wide range of subject matter as well as weather conditions. We had days of brilliant sunshine, but also days of moody mist. I loved it all. I was also very happy that I'd chosen gouache as my painting medium. Sun or drizzle, it served me well. I may teach a workshop or two in gouache—stay tuned.
The paintings follow in more or less chronological order. To see where and when each was painted, click on the image to get a larger picture, and you can read my notes. Most are 5x8, but a few are double-spreads, at 5x16.
Stromness Harbour 5x7 gouache by Michael Chesley Johnson
Set up painting on the street, and you can bet you’ll be asked a few questions. Invariably, while on this trip in Scotland, I have been asked if I’m painting in watercolor. When I respond that I’m painting in gouache, I expect puzzlement, but strangely, that has not been the case. When I start to explain that gouache is a form of opaque watercolor, I get an immediate nod of understanding. “Oh, yes, I can see that now, “ said one gentleman as he took a closer look.
One of my readers has asked to see a photo of my setup for this trip. I did post a short essay on it before I left (which you can read here), but now that I have been painting with it in the field for three weeks, I have pared things down. The photo shows my basic kit: 15-pan Caran D’Ache set, a Pentalic watercolor journal (140lb paper), a trimmed-down yogurt container for my water plus a strong magnet to hold it tight to the gouache kit’s metal lid, a couple of clamps, plus a French easel palette to clip everything to--and that’s it. It’s a small bundle I can carry in one hand anywhere. I do usually stuff it in my backpack, as I bring along a few other items: a short roll of paper towels, a few watercolor pencils, a gardener’s foam knee pad to sit on, plus water to drink and snacks. And, of course, a poncho in case things turn wet.
And it has indeed turned wet! We’ve had beautiful, sunny moments in Orkney, but we’ve also had the equally-beautiful smattering of drizzle and mist. I did not come to Scotland for sun but for the Scottish mood, and I am enjoying all of it. The other day, when it was blowing particularly hard and wet--a steady, 50 mile-an-hour wind--we took the foot ferry over to the Island of Hoy to hike and explore. Our 6-mile round trip to the Old Man of Hoy took us past ruined stone cottages, over boggy heath and onto particularly wind-pummelled hilltops, but it was a perfect time.
Now we have one day left in Stromness, followed tomorrow by a flight to Glasgow and one night there before flying back to Halifax, and then the drive to Campobello Island. Although I plan to write up more thoughts on this trip, when I get home I’ll be quite busy with workshops, articles to write and, of course, some Scotland paintings to paint for the trip’s patrons!
The basic kit. How much simpler can you get? I have used only about half the colors in this set.
As I write, I am seated in a 200-year-old bothy--a stone lodge used for farmworkers--on the north end of the Orkney Islands. Far from being the rustic dwelling it once was, the bothy has been beautifully renovated and modernized by a local artist. But what I enjoy most is the setting. From my chair, I can see cows grazing behind stone fences, and a pair of guinea hens playing hide-and-seek in clump of wild roses. Farther off, looking across the Eynhallow Sound, I can see the island of Rousay, perched at the edge of the Westray Firth, and the white waves crashing against its eastern cliffs.
It’s already 7:30 pm, but the sun is still high in the sky. We are approaching the summer solstice, still two days away, and the sun won’t set until 10:30. Here at 59 degrees north latitude, the daylight period is nearly 19 hours long. I could get a lot of painting done with daylight like that--if I were painting. But I’m not doing much of that. There’s so much to see. The Orkney Islands have over 166 prehistoric archaeological sites, many of them dating from neolithic times, and we’re visiting them. The Ring of Brodgar. The Stones of Stennis. The Unstan Burial Chamber. And the most famous and oldest of all, clocking in at over 5000 years, Skara Brae. But we’re also enjoying historic sites, such as the St Magnus Cathedral, which was started in the 12th century and took over 300 years to build. Finally, we’re discovering connections with my ancestors, some of whom left Orkney for America at the time of the Highland Clearances.
The Isle of Skye plein air painting retreat ended a week ago now. I actually have painted since then. Marion joined us one last time after the participants left, and we went out to Talisker Beach. It was a windy and spitting-wet kind of morning. Sheep roamed with abandon in the pasture that abutted the beach; I settled down on the beach, away from the sheep dung, on one of the large beach cobbles where I painted first the sea stack and then a long arm of cliff that sported a waterfall. (Two days of rain followed the completely dry ten-day retreat, and every hillside had a waterfall.)
After that, we were off on our Orkney adventure, first taking a cab from Portree to the Kyle of Lochalsh and then the train to Thurso, followed by a ferry to Stromness at the southern end of the islands. I am now in possession of a car and learning to drive on the left side of the road.
By the way, I well remember my patrons for this trip and my project. I made many good studies on Skye and taken thousands of photographs, and now that I am settled on Orkney I will shortly get back to sketching. In the meantime, I leave my readers with the two sketches I did at Talisker Beach and some photos of our new environment.
Now I’m going to close the light-blocking curtains, shut out the sun, and try to get some sleep.
As I write, the rain is falling on Loch Portree, just outside my window. The Cuillins, which I can see from here on a clear day, have vanished in the low clouds. I understand that this is typical weather for the Isle of Skye in Scotland, but it is strange to us. We have enjoyed two weeks of record-breaking dry weather for our painting retreat: sun some days, overcast on others, but never a drop of rain.
As wonderful as the dry weather was, I am cheered by the rain. Sometimes I pine for it when I am at my New Mexico studio, where we often have weeks, if not months, of clear skies. Here, the rain is much needed. The Talisker distillery, over in Carbost, uses spring water for their whisky, and the springs are running low. But besides the distillery, the fields and trees need it, too. One of my favorite hikes is in the heath in Sligachan, where the trail wanders uphill along the river and into the Black Cuillins. The trail is completely dry. Yet you can see where the boggy spots would be during a normal season; the earth is black there, and water bars have been built of stone to shunt the flow away from the trail. There is nothing to shunt this season.
Despite all this, the heather is starting to bloom--bouquets of tiny purple flowers, visible if you look closely, but soon to carpet the hills. The ferns and bracken have unfurled and are approaching their deep summer greens, and the moss looks vibrant. Life continues apace. Birds sing and look for mates in the heath, and from across the loch, I can hear a solitary cuckoo, loudly calling.
And what of the midges? They hit their stride in early June, but they have been rare for us. We have sought out breezy spots for painting, and the wind may have driven them off; but even when we take a hike early in the morning and it is calm, the midges are few. I have some red welts on my head and arms, but nothing like I had expected. Perhaps this dry spell has interrupted their development. I, for one, do not miss the midges.
All of this fine weather has contributed to a relaxing and successful ten days for our plein air painting retreat. Ten days sounds like a long time, but each day was filled with sketching--morning and afternoon and sometimes evening sessions--plus exploring, with each day bringing a new location. (We went to one location twice, Sligachan, but that was by popular demand.) At first, we brought lunch, but then we figured out most villages had a cafe, and so that added to the adventure.
So what makes for a successful painting retreat? First, excellent planning. Trina spent a great deal of time hammering out details with lodging and traveling. Second, an excellent local guide. Marion has lived and painted on Skye for ten years, and she knows all the good spots and understands the logistics needed for outdoor painting. Third, an excellent organizer. Not to blow my own horn, but I am good at making sure that all the pieces fit together. Finally, an excellent group of painters. Our group consisted of serious artists, some of whom are professionals, who all worked well together. By the way, having a good group didn’t just “happen”; I invite only previous students or artists whom I know personally and whom I feel will be compatible.
Another key to a successful retreat lies in having a common goal. We understood that the weather might not be perfect (and in fact, expected it not to be!) and that painting might require working in short sessions. With that understanding, we all chose to consider this a sketching trip. That is, we weren’t planning to make finished paintings that we could take back home and sell. Some made sketches in journals, incorporating the written word or even clippings from brochures; others made them on scraps of paper that could easily be reworked in the studio or used as a reference for later paintings. We also stripped down our gear, and to make things as convenient as possible, we worked in watercolor, gouache and pastel. I didn’t even bring a tripod but found plenty of rocks to sit on, which I cushioned with a gardener’s foam knee pad.
This afternoon, as the rain continues to fall, I’m thinking about other painting retreats including a return to the Isle of Skye in 2020. If you’d like to join us on a future retreat, please remember that I give preference to past students. If you haven’t taken a workshop with me yet, now is the time to sign up. You can find a complete list plus details at www.mchesleyjohnson.com/workshops/.
Now I’m going to do a little painting of the view from my window.
Snizort Bridge 5x7 gouache by Michael Chesley Johnson
In my workshops, I stress the importance of having a goal when you go out to paint. This holds true for a painting retreat, too, even if that goal is simply to relax. When we did our critiques Sunday morning, I asked each artist as she presented her work two questions: What goal did you have for the retreat? And did you reach your goal?
Two artists, who had a show coming up, came to collect reference material for studio work; one came to learn how to abstract the landscape without losing the identity of a specific place; and another, who had never been outside of North America, came literally to expand her horizon and to keep a detailed journal. My own goal was to explore a new medium (gouache) and to gather references for a series of paintings I have pre-sold. Everyone agreed it has been a good week. (It also helped that we enjoyed a record-breaking dry spell on Skye; they’ve never had 20 days--and counting--of zero precipitation.)
Marion had made lunch reservations for us at the Skeabost Hotel, a historic hotel that started as a hunting lodge in 1871 on the banks of the River Snitzort, so that became our morning painting spot. But before lunch, a couple of us hiked the gravel road that follows the creek through woods of beech and oak to an old stone bridge that leads to tiny St Columba’s Isle. St Columba was the first Christian missionary to Scotland. The island, which sits in the middle of the creek, has two little ruined chapels plus an ancient cemetary that contains two carved effigies from the sixteenth century. Afterward, I headed back to the bridge where I found a good viewpoint for painting, a rocky perch right above the river.
After lunch, we drove off to another cemetary. This hilltop one was much newer, dating from the first world war. Stone walls criss-crossed the treeless hills, and sheep munched on the grass. As much as I liked the long vistas with lowering clouds, I had a hard time settling on something to paint. Maybe I was distracted by the sheep; a lamb accompanied each one, and it was fascinating to watch how the lambs interacted with their mothers. Finally, an old hawthorn tree by a stone wall drew my eye, and that became the subject for an impromptu demo.
A visit to Scotland isn’t complete, I guess, without a visit to a whiskey distillery. The next day, and the last day of our retreat, we headed for the Talisker Distiller in Carbost, where two of our party toured the plant. The rest of us painted on the shore of Loch Harport. Clouds made beautiful formations over the loch, and I found myself compelled to include them.
Next, we headed back home by way of Sligachan. All of us wanted to paint there one more time before the retreat ended. After lunch at the Sligachan Hotel, I hiked to a waterfall I’d discovered last time, but I soon realized there was no way to paint it safely, as I would need pitons and rope to anchor myself at the edge of the deep cataract. Instead, I found a little boggy pond and a grand view of the Black Cuillins. I was quite content on a little ledge, painting away, as the clouds thickened. I think a little rain may have fallen on the highest peaks.
And that was our final day. This morning as I write, two are preparing to drive to Glasgow for their flight. Another couple stay one more night before leaving. Trina and I are here till the weekend, but the record-breaking dry spell is predicted to come to an end soon, so I may not do much more sketching. When we leave Skye, we will head for the Orkney Islands, where I plan to track down my Halcro ancestors.
I enjoyed painting with everyone this week, but the retreat would not have been anywhere near as successful had it not been for Marion Boddy-Evans. Her knowledge of the island and her cheerful demeanor added so much to our trip. Thank you, Marion!
We are already planning another plein air painting retreat on the Isle of Skye for May/June 2020. If you're interested but haven't taken a workshop with me yet, please know that I give booking preference to past students. For a full list of my workshops, please visit my website, www.mchesleyjohnson.com/workshops
Return to Sligachan 5x14 gouache by Michael Chesley Johnson
Loch Harport 5x7 gouache by Michael Chesley Johnson
This little fellow, and English robin, perched right on my work surface to say hello.
Dunvegan Castle View 5x14 gouache by Michael Chesley Johnson
A plein air painting retreat of this length needs some down time, and that’s what we had on Friday. Rather than travel, we stayed in Portree. Some of us painted the view just off the deck of our cottage, others hiked to the waterfront with their gear; and we all did it on our own relaxed schedules. I made a couple of little sketches from the beach--a nice breeze kept me cool--and later hiked to the town pier to paint among the tourists. Space was tight in that area, as much of the view was taken up with private pocket gardens associated with the self-catering cottages that lined the waterfront. And as it was lunchtime, the tourists who weren’t staying at these cottages either had to stand to eat their takeaway sandwiches or perch on the edge of the public pier. Now and then, a squadron of seagulls would dive into the crowd to snatch away some treat. (Tourists, don’t feed the gulls; your leftover chips will cause a riot.)
The next day was the day of the Skye Marathon. Ordinarily, if you want to avoid road closures, you get a very early start. But this marathon started oddly late, not until after 10, so we had no trouble avoiding it when we left at our usual time. We headed for the tiny fishing village of Stein, on the Waternish peninsula. The village consists of a cluster of white row houses, one of which is the Stein Inn. It’s the oldest inn on Skye, having been built in 1794.
I painted first down by the beach, capturing a lonely croft house on a bit of land jutting out into the loch, and then moved to the private seating area of the Inn to paint a street view. (As in Portree, the waterfront right in front of the Inn and other buildings consists of private parks, but as we were having lunch there later, we were allowed.) Hans from Holland stopped by as he carried coffee out for him and his wife. “I will have my coffee first, and then I will see what you are doing, all right?” When he returned, he admitted he was a watercolor painter and proceeded to show me his work on a smartphone with a screen the size of a box of matches.
That afternoon, we drove to Dunvegan Castle, home of the chiefs of the MacLeod clan, and painted the view a third of a mile past it, where you see the castle tiny in the distance, topped by a little flag and surrounded by water and islets. It looked like a storybook illustration. Afterward, I left the others painting and hiked back to the castle for a tour. I saw things on the walk that I wouldn’t have seen if I’d driven--giant, mossy trees that must have been two hundred years old, and half-hidden stone buildings, covered in vines liked some yet-undiscovered Mayan ruin.
Portree Pier 5x7 gouache by Michael Chesley Johnson
Portree Bay View 5x7 gouache by Michael Chesley Johnson
Incoming Tide 5x7 gouache by Michael Chesley Johnson
Stein Croft House 5x
Stein Street 5x7 gouache by Michael Chesley Johnson
Eilean Donan Castle 5x14 gouache by Michael Chesley Johnson
Fantastic landforms--how do you paint them? The Quiraing is what’s called a “landslip,” an area where the land has literally slipped away, leaving a high ridge. Over time, the ridge has eroded into strange shapes. Grass and bracken have knitted an emerald coat over it all. As a painter, the Quiraing poses two problems: representing the convoluted, underlying geology and the incredible variety of greens so that both are believable.
The Quiraing is one of the top five tourist stops in Scotland, and by the time we got there, the wide verge was quite parked up. (There were almost as many tourists as sheep.) We had to walk a little distance to the main trail and from there dispersed to find a view that pleased us. I discovered a little nook that had a breeze--it was warm without one--and worked on resolving the problems of painting this strange land. Fleeting sun alternately turned the greens an incandescent, almost-orangey-green to a cooler, almost-blueish-green and everything in between. I’m glad I had my gouache, as it made varying the greens easier; with a small traveling kit of pastel, I would have been lost.
Quiraing North 5x7 gouache
Quiraing South 5x7 gouache
I had time for two sketches before we needed a break. When everyone was ready, we headed down to Staffin and the Telford House for tea and scones. Cafes and tea houses are not hard to find on Skye; every little village seems to have at least a couple.
Afterward, we headed toward a set of basaltic columns near Duntulm Castle, which is now so much a ruin that it is basically a pile of stones with a view. One of our group had requested a pastel demonstration, so I borrowed her set and demonstrated how I paint rocks. (Using a kit that is not your own is always a challenge.) Then we hiked out to the castle, where I tried to imagine what it was like oh so long ago to stand there before Instagram and Facebook and to enjoy an unpopulated view.
During the evening critique, someone asked why I paint on both sides of each sheet in my journal. “It would be hard to sell individual paintings that way,” she remarked. True, but I hadn’t been thinking of selling these sketches but using them solely as references. I did start the journal by putting one sketch per sheet, but after a day realized I could get many more sketches in this one book if I painted both front and back. So, although the sketches are in chronological order, there are a couple out of sequence since I went back and filled in those first blank pages.
The next day, we wanted to visit the famous Eilean Donan castle, which is not on Skye but just across a loch on the mainland. Although you can get to the castle via the Skye bridge, we opted to do the trip as a loop and take the Kylerhea-Glenelg ferry. We left Portree early to get a spot on the ferry, which is a tiny boat that can hold up to six small cars. The ferry is an unusual one in that it is one of the last remaining turntable ferries; the ferry’s top can be rotated to give the cars a favorable exit and entrance. When the ferry reaches land, it runs alongside the ramp, and then the captain gets out and rotates the turntable by hand so the exit of the ferry sits firmly on the ramp so the cars can leave. (I’ll try to post a video of it.) The ferry trip itself is only a ten-minute ride, and the first mate is a border collie, who provided entertainment.
Eilean Donan sits out on a little nub of rock, which you reach by a beautiful stone bridge. It’s nice having the castle separated from the coffee shop/gift shop/ticket office and car park, since that area can be quite busy with tourists who want to just take pictures and not buy a ticket to cross the bridge to the castle. After a quick lunch at the cafe, most of us walked off to find a quiet spot to paint the view. Although the morning had started with clouds, the clouds soon left and it got hot. I painted until I’d finished the one sketch, and then I returned my gear to the car (backpacks aren’t allowed in the castle) before getting a ticket and crossing the bridge.
The castle was started in the 12th century and, like many castles, over the centuries underwent a variety of additions, subtractions and renovations. In 1719, it was destroyed during a Jacobite rebellion and left in ruin until the early 20th century, when it was rebuilt by Lord Macrae-Gilstrap as a home. Today, the castle is a big tourist attraction and can be rented for weddings and other events. My favorite part of the castle was the view from the towers and ramparts of the hills edging the three lochs that meet there: Loch Duich, Loch Long and Loch Alsh.
On the way home via the Skye bridge, we stopped at the bridge to see a view of the old lighthouse--you could tell how picturesque it would have been before the building of the bridge--and then in Broadford at a silversmith’s shop. As luck would have it, the silversmith was located right next to a real estate office, where we found a lovely little croft house we liked for only 190,000. Will we end up with a summer studio on Skye? Stay tuned!