Category: William Rogers

Posted on

In it to win it

Sometimes you’re just painting to survive.
My second painting, still untitled.
I know there are painters who can work all day and never so much as dirty a fingertip. I don’t understand them and they don’t understand me. I’m usually covered with paint by the end of the day. When traveling, one of my greatest challenges is keeping paint off my rental car. To that end I have a large cardboard box lining the cargo bay, but that still leaves the doors and upholstery for me to ruin. I’ve tried taping plastic across the interior, but it inevitably comes loose and wraps itself around my stuff, making a further mess.
My first painting, also untitled as of yet. I have a small change I’d like to make.
I like baby wipes for getting paint off. “Huggies are the best,”  Jeanne Echternachtold me. I wish I’d listened. The house-brand from Albertson’s isn’t doing much. Of course, it might be the climate. It does weird stuff to paint, things you might not expect. My dry-time, for example, is far slower than I’d anticipated, and the brushes I accidentally left at room temperature didn’t dry out overnight. Considering how arid it is here, that’s odd.
Two weeks ago today I had surgery on my left foot. I’ve still got stitches and both feet are wrapped. I’m painting seated, but on a very limited schedule. Yesterday I managed 6.5 hours and had to come back to the ranch and elevate my feet.
Drawing horses with Bill Rogers. Photo courtesy of Jane Chapin.
That’s fine for this event, which only demands two or three paintings from us, depending on how you count. What I can’t do is get in my car and drive in search of red rocks in Abiquiú or elsewhere.
The fine curs who have kept me company. Photo courtesy of Jane Chapin.
Painter Jane Chapinshows me a little town in the mountains. It’s high, dusty and dry, and has fewer than a hundred people. There are no services. It can’t handle any kind of influx, so I’m not identifying it for you, but it’s a slice of old New Mexico. Old houses, old cars, and some fine mongrel dogs. The residents are friendly, but they’re not particularly interested in what we’re doing. That leaves me lots of time to do my thing. This may be the first show ever that I don’t hand out a single business card.
Scout, by Carol L. Douglas. He’s a beauty.
On Sunday, William Rogers and I spent the morning drawing horses. Bill was interested in working them up as a painting; I was just messing around. It is usually too frenzied to draw for fun at these events, so it was a special opportunity. It was the first time I’ve ever drawn a donkey.
I have four paintings in various states of completion and I need to ponder them. Then back into the SUV and down the road again. I won’t have human company, but I never feel alone with the dogs hanging around.
Posted on

Monday Morning Art School: your first big event

You’re nervous, wondering how on earth you got into this show in the first place. What now?
Brush Creek, by Jeanne Echternach, courtesy of the artist.
I’m holed up on a ranch east of the Pecos with six superlative painters here for Santa Fe Plein Air Fiesta. “What advice would you give the emerging plein air artist before his or her first big event?” I asked them.
“Find something that grabs you and not the thing you think is the most important thing to paint. If I don’t have that connection, then I don’t have that edge,” said William Rogersof Antigonish, Nova Scotia.
Sonoran Preserve, by Richard Abraham, courtesy of the artist.
In other words, don’t focus on the picture postcard view. Sponsors often arrange paint outs for participating artists, and they’re very helpful to those who don’t know the area. But if it doesn’t move you, move on.
“When I was starting out, the worst thing was wasting time driving around looking for the best subject. Once you see something that would make a good painting, stop driving and start painting it,” said Deborah McAllister of Lakewood, CO. “Don’t worry about the other painters in the event or whether you’re going to win an award or not.”
First Snows, First Light, by Karen Ann Hitt, courtesy of the artist.
It’s easy to be unnerved in what is, essentially, a competition. “Find the joy and don’t let the event get in your head,” cautioned Jane Chapin of Santa Fe.
Remember that you were invited to this event because the jurors liked how you paint, so stop comparing yourself to others. That’s an insidious way to mess up your own excellent style. That doesn’t mean you can’t learn from others, but It’s best to put that in a tiny corner and ignore it for the duration of the event.
Ricardo and his horses, by William Rogers, courtesy of the artist.
I put the question to Karen Ann Hitt, of Venice, FL, as she drove away merrily in her big truck. “Less talk and more wine,” I thought she said. Later, she told me she’d actually said, “Red wine and dark chocolate, main food groups!” I’ll take that to mean: remember to bring snacks and plenty of water.
Later, she talked about the first painting of the event. “Start small, keep it simple, and get your first one under your belt. Don’t sweat the details,” she said. It’s a trap to try to do your masterwork on the first run.
Vendor, by Jane Chapin, courtesy of the artist.
“Paint something you’re familiar with. Play to your strengths,” added Jeanne Echternach, of Colorado.
Richard Abraham of Minneapolis knocked it out of the park with his first painting of this event. “Make sure you do your best painting the first day. Then you can relax,” he joked. But there’s some truth there. If your first painting is good, it builds confidence.
Still, you must leave room to be experimental. “Don’t chase your successes,” said Karen Hitt. By that, she meant, don’t fall into a formula. Take time to experiment, enjoy the place and the event, and challenge yourself.
Cottonwoods on the LaPoudre River, Deborah McAllister, courtesy of the artist.
“You can’t learn any younger,” said Jane Chapin.
Your painting will be better if you’re having fun. Take time to socialize. “Make friends with some new artists,” said Deborah McAllister.
Posted on

How I plan to spend my summer (if it ever gets here)

Teenagers and artists choose interesting paths.

Teressa studying painting in Rochester, many moons ago.
Yesterday, I got two registrations in the mail for my Rochester workshop. Kamillah started painting with me when she was a junior in high school, working at a local diner so she could afford art lessons. Now she’s a graduate architect, studying for her boards. Her sister Teressa is in nursing school. It’s a joy to see these kids embrace adulthood with such grace.
Kamillah once painted with me on a late spring weekend in the Adirondacks. We were at an inn that hadn’t opened yet for the season. It was blowing and snowing, as the higher elevations tend to do this time of year. Kamillah is tiny, and I was concerned she’d be blown off the mountain and right into half-thawed Piseco Lake. Summer eventually showed up that year, as it will this year—at some point.
I get to teach in some mighty gorgeous places!
After I got their registrations, I opened my Little Book of Workshops. As of today, I have: 

(I don’t know about Exploring Rye through Paint (May 11-12, Rye, NY); contact the Rye Arts Center for information about that.)
That puts me about exactly where I am every year at this time. Suddenly, when it warms up enough for people to think about painting, those slots fill up.

Will I have a chance to paint in the surf this season? Who knows? Photo by Ed Buonvecchio.

Meanwhile, I—like every other plein air painter—anxiously await jurying results. Most are not in yet, but what I have promises an interesting summer ahead. On the 27th, I fly to Santa Fe, NM for Santa Fe Plein Air Fiesta.
William Rogersfrom Nova Scotia is in that event too. That means I’ll see him twice this summer, since he’s the Honorary Chairman of Parrsboro International Plein Air Festival in early June. The roster at that event is like old home week, including many artists I’ve painted with for ages. That includes, of course, Poppy Balser.
Nova Scotia is one of the world’s great beauty spots. It’s a privilege to paint there.
I’ll be at Ocean Park’s Art in the Park in July. That’s really six old friends doing an ensemble act together, as we’ve done for several years. At Cape Elizabeth I’ll run into Janet Sutherland for the second time this summer. She’s a crackerjack painter and a regular at Castine, but we seldom get time to say more than a few words to each other. If only I could slow the tape down!
In August I’ll be back in New York for the Adirondack Plein Air Festival. And other than that, the jury’s still—literally—out.
Barnyard lilacs, by Carol L. Douglas
Except for one other thing, which is perhaps the biggest thing of all: in September I’ll be an artist-in-residence at the Joseph A. Fiore Art Center. I was raised on a farm, and I’ve got a deep affection for agriculture. This will be the first time in several years where I’ve isolated myself to paint reflectively, rather than tearing around in a car painting fast. I’m terrifically chuffed.