"But you know all pictures painted inside, in the studio,
will never be as good as those done outside. When out-of-door scenes are
represented, the contrast between the figures and the ground is astounding and
the landscape is magnificent. I see some superb things and I shall have to make
up my mind only to do things out-of-doors."
- Paul Cezanne in a letter
to Emile Zola, 19 October 1866
 |
| My studio is nice, but not this nice. |
I love to paint in the studio, where the light doesn’t
change and the wind can’t blow over your easel, dogs won’t lift a leg on your
stuff, rattlesnakes and bulls won’t taunt you*, and people don’t come by and
comment on what you’re working on or worse, blather on about whatever strange
concept they’re working on; yes, I’ve witnessed all of these.
 |
| Renny's, 18 x 24" oil on canvas. |
So perhaps I complained about the challenge of the changing
shadows as they fell longer through the afternoon, and my friend and painting
compadre Kit whipped out this quotation as we were wrapping up a marathon day
at the fabulous Hollister Ranch on the California coast.
 |
| Plenty of room: Lori & Kit at Renny's. |
I have to agree with Cezanne: often you can tell if a
painting was executed en plein air or
from photographs in the studio. Painters who have logged thousands of hours
outside can master the challenge, but others, well, not so much. You can tell, sometimes
by the colorless shadows, exaggerated light, or strange details, that a painter
hasn’t planted an easel in the dirt very often. Not that there’s anything wrong
with that, except, as Cezanne says, those indoor pictures will never be as
good.
Even the best of cameras can’t capture the subtleties of
light and millions of hues that radiate into the human eye and are interpreted by
the wondrous visual cortex, the largest system in the human brain. But that’s
not the only reason that landscapes painted in the studio fall flat.
I don’t typically paint landscapes indoors; I paint from
life, real flowers, fruits, or whatever piques my interest in the garden and
studio on a given day. In spite of the
changing light and other challenges, I still prefer to stand in the beautiful
landscape to capture not just a picture, but the air, the breeze, the softness
of dirt or the sounds of water or wind.
 |
| El Capitan, 16 x 20" oil on canvas |
Yesterday in Carpinteria an osprey perched in a eucalyptus tree directly above
us and seals barked at the bottom of the bluffs behind us. Somehow all of these
sensations are woven into the essence of a painting done outdoors, but they
won’t be found in the sterile air of the studio.
 |
| Temporary studio at El Cap. |
*stay tuned for the snake story in a future post
