The intensity of color

Travel always reminds me of regional differences in color. 
Reed beds, by Carol L. Douglas, 9×12, oil on canvasboard

There were five Maine painters at Plein Air Brandywine Valley this year. One thing that was obvious was that our work was, overall, higher in chroma than that of the mid-Atlantic painters around us. Generalizations always lie, of course. For example, pastellist Tara Will is from down thataway, and sheā€™s nothing if not eye-popping brilliant.

But a brief survey of well-known painters of the Maine coastā€”people like Henry Isaacs, Connie Hayes, Colin Page, Jill HoyEric Hopkins, etc.ā€”show a painting culture interested more in color and light than in fidelity to fact. Compare that to the paintings recently completed for the Hudson Valley Plein Air Festival. With the exception of Maineā€™s own Olena Babek, these painters are from eastern New York and Pennsylvania. Their work is less saturated and generally warmer in tone than the work here in Maine.
Fog over mountain, by Carol L. Douglas, oil on canvasboard (available)
We Mainers have no hammerlock on high chroma. Go out to Santa Fe and paint with the folks from Plein Air Painters of New Mexico. Theyā€™re working in their own palette. Itā€™s as intense as ours, but pushes the reds, ochres and blue-violets.
To a large degree, geography shapes our color choices. The light in Maine and New Mexico is harsher than that of the mid-Atlantic states, where skies often have high, filtered clouds. These create softer light.
A little (8×10) fantasia I finished in my studio on Tuesday (available)
Maine has more artists than you can shake a stick at, and many of us are ā€˜from away.ā€™ Yesterday I was at a meeting and couldnā€™t help but notice the Long Island accent of one of my fellow artists. ā€œWhere are you from?ā€ I asked. It turned out that all but one of us in the room were expatriated New Yorkers. Some have been here a very long time; others, like me, are recent transplants.
When I first moved to Maine, I was asked whether Iā€™d moved because of the light. Thatā€™s certainly part of it. The Great Lakes regions of New York are actually temperate rainforests, they get so much precipitation. That means dark winters and many cloudy days. But that was only part of my decision. Maine art has a culture of color, and it appealed to me.
Midsummer, by Carol L. Douglas, 24×30, oil on canvas, available
Regional schools develop through example and imitation, and thatā€™s a natural, healthy human interaction. But what should you do when you find yourself painting at cross-purposes to the people around you? I did that for a long time, and it was difficult. The misfit artist is under subtle pressure to change his style to match prevailing fashion. He doesnā€™t get the sales or the gallery space, and he starts to wonder whatā€™s wrong with him.
The answer, of course, is that thereā€™s absolutely nothing wrong with someone following his internal muse. The internet is a wonderful tool for getting out and finding oneā€™s own tribe, but it doesnā€™t hold a candle to traveling in person. Go, take workshops, make friends in other communities, and validate your vision.

Painting better, at last

What causes the droughts in our creative life, when weā€™ve apparently forgotten everything we ever knew about painting?
Ottawa House, oil on canvas, Carol L. Douglas, available.

Iā€™m back in Nova Scotia for a two-week residency at Parrsboro Creative. A few years ago, they decided their little community at the top of the Bay of Fundy ought to be a major art center. A series of artist residencies is part of their master plan.

One of my goals is to paint some of the scenes I havenā€™t gotten to during three years at Parrsboro International Plein Air Festival (PIPAF). The first of these is historic Ottawa House. Built around 1770, it became the summer home of Sir Charles Tupper in 1871. Tupper was a well-known politician who once served as Prime Minister of Canada for 69 days.
The only way to paint the scene is to set up along a hairpin turn. The right side of the road is a blind spot for drivers whipping around the bend, so I faced oncoming traffic.
My home-away-from-home for the next two weeks.
A local stopped. ā€œTwo weeks ago, two girls lost control on this corner and plowed into the guardrail there.ā€ He pointed to a spot about thirty feet away. ā€œIf it werenā€™t for these cables, theyā€™d have gone over the embankment. Took two posts clean out.ā€
I began to think about Grant Woodā€™s Death on the Ridge Road. ā€œThose cables have been there since the Second World War,ā€ said the man, patting a post fondly. They certainly have the whiff of age about them, and are battered and twisted from impacts across the years.
Iā€™m starting to know people in Parrsboro, and one of them stopped to chat as I worked. ā€œYouā€™ve chosen a dangerous spot,ā€ he started.
That was my clue to move along. The affair was starting to remind me of that joke that ends with God saying, ā€œFirst I sent you a canoe, then a boat, and then a helicopter. What more did you want?ā€
Four Ducks, oil on canvas, Carol L. Douglas, sold.
Sandwiched between my visits to Nova Scotia was Cape Elizabeth Land Trustā€™s 12thAnnual Paint for Preservation. I wrote last week about the disparity in pricing and awards for women artists, and how Parrsboro Creative was turning the tide. That trend continued at Cape Elizabeth, where the top price was earned by Jill Hoy
Still, all except two of the top 20% were men. I was the other woman. While Iā€™m pleased, I also want to see my paint-spattered sisters consistently getting their due.
Iā€™ve spent the better part of a week pondering why I painted so well at Cape Elizabeth and so badly at PIPAF the prior week. Robert More reminded me that the creative space is elusive, showing up where and when it wants. I was certainly tired and rushed when I arrived in Parrsboro.
Despite my workmanlike approach to painting, there are times when it all goes bad. The advantage to being older is that youā€™ve gone through this many times before, and you know itā€™s a transient problem. ā€œYou canā€™t create when the well runs dry,ā€ my friend Jane Bartlett says. Prayerful reflection, sleep, reading and recreation all refill the well. Iā€™ve done those things, and Iā€™m back on track. Letā€™s hope it continues.

Support the Center for Maine Coastal Fisheries

 Itā€™s time for Stoningtonā€™s nautical auction again, but this year the selection has gone wild.
Two Boat Rock, Jill Hoy
Regular readers know that Iā€™ve supported the Maine Center for Coastal Fisheries since before I moved to coastal Maine. A viable fisheries industry is crucial to Maineā€™s economy, but it also is the bedrock on which our tourism rests.
In past years, the Nautical Auction featured painted buoys. I enjoyed doing them, but Iā€™m not a craftsperson. When they expanded their auction to include non-buoy items, I jumped at the chance to submit a conventional framed canvas. This yearā€™s submission was painted off the deck of American Eagle last summer, and is of Scott Island off Stonington.
Fish, Peter Beerits
I like to leaf through the items on offer. This year the catalog includes more than 80 items across a wide range of categories, only tangentially related to buoys. There are gift certificates for seafood, and thereā€™s pretty jewelry. You can get a one-year membership to the Farnsworth Museum. If thatā€™s a little too arty for you, bid on a 3.3 HP Mercury Outboard Motor instead.
Andrew Goveā€™s, Bobbi Heath
There are B&B stays, personal boat tours and a sea-kayaking eco-tour. Thereā€™s a sail on the ketch Guildive out of Castine, or if you already work on the water, a gift certificate toward your boatā€™s lettering or a certificate for haul out or put in.
Cod Fishing, Siri Beckman
One lucky winner will see his or her name in Katherine Hall Pageā€™s next mystery. There are antique, contemporary and cookbooks on offer, and an Opinel fishing knife.
Scott Island, High Tide, Carol L. Douglas
And of course, thereā€™s art and a selection of buoys as well. But donā€™t take my word for it: the whole crazy array can be viewed here. The proceeds of the sale go to support sustainable, human-scale fisheries on the Maine coast.
Two Daughters Papercut, Larry Moffet
The bad news, for me, is the timing: the auction is Monday, August 7, at Opera House Arts. The preview starts at 5:30 and the bidding starts at six. Iā€™ll be at Acadia National Park teaching my annual workshop.
However, we can also place silent bids by emailing Bobbi Billings or phoning the office at  207-367-2708. Bids will be accepted until August 4.