Tag: plein air painting

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Monday Morning Art School: why loose brushwork in painting?

Ravenous Wolves, oil on canvas, 24X30. For more information, click on the image.

There have always been painters who embraced rough, broken marks. However, at the end of the 18th century, painters like Francisco Goya and J.M.W. Turner began a permanent break from the polish of strict academic painting. Where did loose brushwork in painting come from, and is it still relevant today?

A quick note before we get into it

Claim your spot in Painting Water, Monday evenings or Painting Nocturnes, Tuesday evenings. Both are 6-9 PM, starting the week of August 17, 2026, which is today.

This is my last Zoom session until I get back from Sedona Plein Air at the end of October. That’s because I’m teaching and eventing non-stop until then.

I upload videos of these online classes and you have access to them for as long as there’s YouTube. That means you can review them if you need a refresher or have to cut out early.

Brooding Skies, 8X10, oil on archival canvasboard, click on image for more information.

The Industrial Revolution

The 18th and early 19th century saw the development of steam power, textile mills, canals and railroads, making muscle much less important. At the end of the 19th century, electricity, petroleum, steel, chemicals, telecommunications and the internal-combustion engine were introduced. That gave us assembly lines, automobiles, electrical grids, telephones, skyscrapers and mass consumer goods.

The second half of the 20th century brought computers, electronics, telecommunications, robotics, satellites and the internet. Now we’re grappling with artificial intelligence, machine learning, cloud computing, sensors, robotics, biotechnology, autonomous vehicles and, of course, the Internet of Things. Rapid change makes us edgy, but it’s important to remember that those prior phases had the same effect on the people who lived through them.

Art responded to each phase of the Industrial Revolution in unique ways. But with each of them we saw more of the artist and less of the subject in artwork. Visible brushstrokes said, “this was made by a human,” in a world which felt increasingly standardized.

In Control (Grace and her Unicorn), 24X30, $3,478 framed, oil on canvas, includes shipping in continental United States.

Impressionism and plein air painting

Plein air painting was an important part of Impressionism . Because conditions outdoors shift so fast, plein air painting rewards economy. Plein air painters learn to ‘set it and foret it.’ That produces fresh, economical marks.

Plein air painting is the biggest and most influential painting movement of my lifetime. Its mark-making isn’t going out of style any time soon.

Modernism

Modernist painters increasingly treated the painting as an object in itself, rather than a reflection of reality. Painters like Paul Cézanne and Vincent van Gogh used brushwork to create both emotional tone and structure.

Modernism emphasized subjective vision over realistic representation. The disillusionment and anxiety of the 20th century, with its endless wars, meant that this vision was often fragmented, dark and distorted. In Abstract Expressionism, loose brushwork often was the subject.

Photography

Once photographs could record appearances with accuracy, painting lost its practical purpose, which had been to record people, places, ideas and events. Painters were forced to ask, what can I do that a camera can’t?

Loose brushwork was one answer. This helped shift painting from representation into interpretation.

Certificate of authenticity

Your brushwork is as individual as your handwriting. It’s one thing technology can’t (yet) duplicate. And it’s why we value loose brushwork in painting more than ever; the physical act of painting is imbedded in the work.

Brushstrokes record movement, speed, pressure, hesitation and decision, just as handwriting does. It has become a dominant part of modern style; we recognize the person in the mark.

Brushwork signals confidence

Bravura brushwork suggests decisiveness, mastery, speed, physical engagement, risk and freedom. These are things our culture values, so we find loose brushwork in painting far more exciting than carefully-blended marks (although there is room for both in a good painting).

Athabasca River Confluence, 9X12, click on image for more information.

Looseness isn’t the same thing as good painting

Bravura brushwork only works if the painter knows what each stroke is meant to accomplish. Otherwise, it’s mere sloppiness.

Loose brushwork has to sit on a base of careful drawing, good composition and well-considered color. Great painters with flamboyant brushwork have a wealth of technique supporting their apparent spontaneity. They know proportion, value, edges, color relationships, anatomy, perspective and composition well enough that they can hit the right mark on the first strike (which is what alla prima means).

The big question

If looseness is now the language of serious painting, is there still anything rebellious or exploratory in being loose? Does looseness still matter in the 21st century? For me, the answer is yes but I leave you to make that choice yourself.

I have just two workshops left in 2026! Reserve your spot:

Can’t commit to a full workshop? Work online at your own pace:

Seven Protocols for Successful Oil Painters

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Plein air painting waste and the plastic bag ban

Intrepid painters at Wahconah Falls State Park (Berkshires workshop).

In the old days, my highest-rated blog post was this essay on folding plastic bags to fit in your kit. (Now it’s this debunking of tetrochromacy; don’t ask me why.)

Today, 12 states have plastic-bag bans: Maine, Vermont, Rhode Island, Connecticut, New York, New Jersey, Delaware, Colorado, Washington, Oregon, California, and Hawaii.

My county was an early adopter, and I supported the plastic bag ban. Not because it cut down on plastics; grocery bags comprise a miniscule part of America’s plastic consumption. I was sick of seeing bags hanging from trees, fences and shrubs. The prevailing winds in coastal Maine blow towards the ocean. Sea urchins, jellyfish and the other denizens of tidal pools don’t need to be dodging plastic bags.

However, I’ve noticed in recent workshops that my students have a harder time dealing with plein air painting waste now that plastic grocery bags are less plentiful.

Alicia made a beautiful painting in a real Ashcan School setting (Berkshires workshop).

Short weekly class session starts next Monday

Claim your spot in Painting Water, Monday evenings or Painting Nocturnes, Tuesday evenings. Both are 6-9 PM, starting the week of August 17, 2026, which is next week.

This is my last Zoom session until I get back from Sedona Plein Air at the end of October. That’s because I’m teaching and eventing non-stop until then.

I upload videos of these online classes and you have access to them for as long as there’s YouTube. That means you can review them if you need a refresher or have to cut out early.

My city-slicker student Jackie wasn’t keen on the chickens, but they seemed to love her! (Berkshires workshop)

BYOB (Bring Your Own Bag)

Obviously, we want to carry in, carry out. We’re stewards of the landscape, after all.

I don’t like the lightweight trash receptacles that are meant to hang from your easel. They’re heavier and bigger than a plastic bag. Emptying them in a trash can may be no big deal in Manhattan, but it’s a pain in less civilized areas. They tumble around in your car until you empty them. That’s an opportunity to get paint on the upholstery. Then you have to fold them and remember to put them back in your kit.

Washable reusable bags put pigments into the water stream. Paper bags leak. The humble plastic bag remains the most practical answer, but in the bag-ban states, we have to buy rolls of 1-gallon trash bags. I’ve resigned myself to it.

Linda tried to take a pig home with her after she painted its portrait (Berkshires workshop).

Trash is tough if you forget the bag

Without a trash bag, plein air painting waste can be difficult to manage. Used paper towels and rags accumulate quickly. There are foul, sticky palette scrapings, bits of tape, plastic gloves, sandwich wrappers, tissues and other trash.

I’ve been forced to tuck dirty rags into my pockets. Worse is to set them down until you pack up. They get paint on the ground and can blow away. A dirty paper towel isn’t just unsightly litter. Pigments shouldn’t be added to the landscape.

One of the pleasures of plein air painting is that you develop an intimate relationship with a particular piece of land. That means you also notice the garbage. I hike daily and find coffee cups, soda cans, dog poop, candy wrappers, tissues, etc. along the trail.

Your painting kit should contain everything you need to make the painting and everything you need to pack up and leave no trace. We are guests in the landscape. Our goal should be to leave our little patch of earth looking as we found it, if not better.

I have just two workshops left in 2026! Reserve your spot:

Can’t commit to a full workshop? Work online at your own pace:

Seven Protocols for Successful Oil Painters

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Stop copying in your landscape painting

Lynda Mussen is a regular for this workshop, and her painting is better every year.

Overlooking the Mt. Desert Narrows of Frenchman’s Bay (as we have been this week at my Schoodic workshop), the temptation is to simply copy what’s in front of us. That’s understandable. The scene is sublime, the birds are warbling, the ocean rolls ceaselessly towards us. Surely Nature is in charge of what to paint.

Nope. Nature is giving us raw material, not a finished composition. What’s there is too vast to capture in any one landscape painting. (That’s why your vacation snapshots are often so disappointing, by the way.) We must edit and compose ruthlessly, or our viewers will be left starved of the feeling of the place.

When I teach plein air workshops, students often ask whether they can change something. They’re tentative about moving a tree, eliminating a line of spruces or shifting Cadillac Mountain a little to the left. This is especially true of new painters.

Frank Costantino did this wonderful sketch of Cynthia while she was painting.

A quick note on weekly classes before we get into it

Claim your spot in Painting Nocturnes, Tuesday evenings or Painting Water, Monday evenings. Both are 6-9 PM, starting the week of August 17, 2026, and they’re filling up.

I upload videos of these online classes and you have access to them for as long as there’s YouTube. That means you can review them if you need a refresher or have to cut out early.

There are two answers to this question.

  • Even people intimately familiar with the place won’t notice the edits in your landscape painting. They react to the sense of place, not the details.
  • The sun is going to rearrange everything in your composition anyway, so why worry about moving a tree?

The landscape is not static. Shadows march across fields. Clouds drift overhead. Tide rises. Wind whistles. Boats glide through your carefully composed picture. The color temperature changes as the day winds through its courses.

Even photography isn’t objective. Every camera lens has a different focal length and field of view, and is set for different apertures and exposures. This changes how the camera records a scene as much as the painter’s eye does.

Karolina almost finished with her painting of the rock faces of Schoodic.

Your job is to organize visual chaos into something coherent.

How you organize your landscape painting is far more important than whether you’ve placed the rocks in exactly the same place that Nature did. You’ll hold the viewer’s eye when he or she can move naturally through the picture. That depends on the value structure, whether the color relationships feel convincing and whether the painting captures the experience of standing there. I’ve written extensively on the science behind this, starting here and here.

How do we do that?

Sometimes that means simplifying, sometimes it means exaggerating, sometimes it means leaving things out altogether.

The great landscape painters have always edited reality. The Impressionists used optical mixing to simulate the real glitter of light. The Hudson River School rearranged mountains and rivers to strengthen composition and make their point about America’s destiny. Even painstakingly realistic landscape painters like Rackstraw Downes are constantly deciding what deserves attention and what doesn’t.

Frank and Aaron, hard at work.

Is this dishonest?

Of course not. It’s the very essence of painting.

Imagine reading a novel that recorded every conversation, every meal, every minute of every day exactly as it happened. That’s À la recherche du temps perdu by Marcel Proust, and it’s excruciatingly dull. Writers edit to reveal meaning, and painters should do exactly the same thing.

Instead of asking, “How do I paint what I see?” ask what attracted you to this scene in the first place. That’s the painting; everything else is just border work.

Once painters stop trying to copy every leaf and stone their work becomes more believable. The painting has structure, intention and a clear visual hierarchy that viewers can enter into.

Your job is to interpret the landscape, not copy it.

I have just two workshops left in 2026! Reserve your spot:

Can’t commit to a full workshop? Work online at your own pace:

Seven Protocols for Successful Oil Painters

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Ticks and the plein air painter

No ticks on the beach! Janet and Tricia told me the lint-roller secret to removing ticks from your dog and clothes.

“Are ticks as bad as the article in the New Yorker made them out to be?” a student asked me as she prepares for next week’s plein air workshop in the Berkshires.

Yes, ticks deserve respect. No, they shouldn’t keep you from painting outdoors.

If you live in the Hudson Valley (as she does) or anywhere in New England or the mid-Atlantic states, you’re already in tick country. Avoiding the great outdoors will reduce your exposure, but who wants to live like that? Use sensible precautions rather than staying indoors during the best part of the year.

A quick note on weekly classes before we get into it

Claim your spot in Painting Nocturnes, Tuesday evenings or Painting Water, Monday evenings. Both are 6-9 PM, starting the week of August 17, 2026.

I upload videos of these online classes and you have access to them for as long as there’s YouTube. That means you can review them if you need a refresher or have to cut out early.

Aaron’s very first oil painting. It was a crazy start to the week, with fog, wind and spattering rain, but my students all pushed through it.

How to avoid ticks

Wear long trousers, tuck your cuffs into your socks if you’re hiking through brush, and treat your clothing and shoes or use a good insect repellent.

I spend an unusual amount of time outdoors. I stay out of tall grass, use insect repellent and bathe when I get home, taking time to look for ticks.

Two students in this week’s Schoodic plein air workshop told me that they keep lint rollers in their cars. They’re inexpensive, handy tools to catch unattached ticks on your clothes, gear, and pets before you go inside.

Ticks are patient and remarkably durable. They wait on grasses and low vegetation for something warm-blooded to brush past. Plein air painters generally set up in open places with good views. That limits our exposure but doesn’t eliminate it.

Ticks are surprisingly slow. It can take them all day to decide where to latch on. A thorough check when you get back to your room is usually enough to catch any hitchhikers before they become a problem.

I carry a small tick removal tool on my keyring. They’re inexpensive and weigh almost nothing. I’ve used it on my dog many times, even though he’s on tick repellent. Dogs are a serious tick vector, especially if they ramble. Check your furry friend carefully before bringing him or her inside.

Mark’s watercolor of the fog in the spruces off Schoodic Point.

If you do find a tick

If you do have the bad luck to find an attached tick, don’t just pull it off; use a tick key or fine-tooth tweezers. Grasp the tick as close to the surface of your skin as possible. Using steady, even pressure, pull the tick upward in one swift motion without jerking or twisting it. If parts of the tick are left inside your skin, try to remove them with the tweezers. If you’re not able to, allow your skin to heal. That’s not my advice; it’s the Mayo Clinic’s.

The classic signs of an infected tick bite are an expanding bull’s-eye or red skin rash, flu-like aches, and a fever, but I’ve known people with Lyme Disease who developed none of these symptoms. If anything seems out of sorts after a tick bite, contact your medical provider and insist on a tick panel.

Sufia and Cynthia on day 2 of Schoodic. By Tuesday morning, the weather was brilliant, and it will be great the rest of the week!

Don’t let them steal your joy

The last time I had an attached tick was twenty years ago, when I was living in Rochester, NY. I’m cautious but not paranoid. I am not going to let them steal my love of the outdoors.

The goal of a plein air workshop isn’t to prove how tough you are. It’s to learn to see better, simplify complex landscapes, and enjoy painting in beautiful places. We choose locations that offer excellent subjects, convenient access, and comfortable working conditions. I want people to spend their time concentrating on color, value, and design.

So, pack your paints, bring a hat, apply your bug spray, and perform a quick tick check before showering. Then focus on the real challenge: deciding what to paint next. That’s a much happier question.

I have just two workshops left in 2026! Reserve your spot:

Can’t commit to a full workshop? Work online at your own pace:

Seven Protocols for Successful Oil Painters

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The most important decision in plein air painting

Eastern Manitoba River, 6X8, oil on archival canvasboard, click on image for more information.

The wallpaper and carpet is gone, so I’m ready for my contractor when he shows up. (Hah!) I’ve moved on to packing for Sea & Sky at Acadia National Park and Find your Authentic Voice in Plein Air in the Berkshires (August 10-14).

I try to protect my students from too much bystander-commentary, but some of it inevitably slips through. (Some of this is unintentional, which is why you should be chary of having private conversations where painters might lurk in the shrubbery.) People say some silly things:

“Are you going to put me in it?” “I wish I had your talent.” “Do you sell these?” and my personal favorite: “That looks like so much fun!”

Moonrise, 12X16, oil on archival canvasboard. For more information, click on image.

Yes, it’s fun, but it’s not easy.

The landscape seems to drowse perpetually in quiet slumber, but in fact it suffers from restless-leg syndrome. This morning the sky went from overcast to austere blue. First there were no shadows; after they arrived, they quickly dwindled to noonday nothing. Now the wind has come around and is exposing the silvery underside of leaves. This evening there may be fog, there may be rain or it may clear.

A quick note on weekly classes before we get into it

Claim your spot in Painting Nocturnes, Tuesday evenings or Painting Water, Monday evenings. Both are 6-9 PM, starting the week of August 17, 2026.

I upload videos of these online classes and you have access to them for as long as there’s YouTube. That means you can review them if you need a refresher or have to cut out early.

Rachel’s Garden, ~24×35, watercolor on Yupo, museum-grade plexiglass. For more information, click on image.

How do plein air painters ever finish anything?

We aren’t painting everything we see. Plein air painting is generally done in two- or three-hour bursts. After that the light has changed so much that it’s hard to continue. Plein air is generally played fast and loose.

Asking yourself “why do I care about this” is a good first step. What caught your eye in the scene? Was it the rhythm of dark spruce against the bright ocean light? The gentle curve of an orchard sweeping down towards the mountains? If there’s no subject in the scene that compels you as a painter, it’s unlikely that your finished work will compel any viewers, either.

Once you’ve figured out the reason, your job is to place that idea front and center. Everything else is subservient.

Best Buds, 11X14, oil on canvasboard. For more information, click on image.

Memory is part of painting

If someone walks through your scene, you can’t ask them to stand still unless you’re willing to pay a modeling fee. It’s always helpful to keep a sketchbook handy, for figures, cloud formations, sailboats, etc. Your finished painting will ultimately be a combination of direct observation, remembered impressions and informed invention.

The most important decision you’ll ever make as a plein air painter

It’s true of all painting, but particularly true in landscape: the most important decision is what not to paint.

Ask yourself: If I leave this out, does the painting become clearer? In so many cases, the answer is yes.

Painting is all about organizing a beautiful chaos into a coherent design. We’re arranging shapes, values, colors, edges, and rhythms so the viewer experiences what moved us to paint that scene in the first place.

I have just two workshops left in 2026! Reserve your spot:

Can’t commit to a full workshop? Work online at your own pace:

Seven Protocols for Successful Oil Painters

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St. Swithin loves plein air painters (this year, at least)

Carol L. Douglas painting at Acadia National Park
Cassie Sano’s painting of Home Farm at Undermountain’s Victorian barn from the Berkshire workshop.

St. Swithin’s Day was July 15. According to folklore, the weather conditions on this day—rain or sunshine—will hold for the next 40 days.

St. Swithin asked to be buried outside so that ‘the sweet rain of heaven’ might fall on his grave. When he was moved to an indoor shrine in 971 AD, he was so displeased that it rained continuously for the next 40 days.

His legend has a whiff of scientific truth. Around the middle of July, the polar jet stream settles into a pattern which mostly holds steady until the end of August. Here in the northeast, St. Swithin’s weather set fair, which bodes well for my next two workshops: Sea & Sky at Acadia National Park (8/2-7) and Find your Authentic Voice in Plein Air in the Berkshires (8/10-14).

My favorite photo of Becky Bense.

A quick note on weekly classes before we get into it

Claim your spot in Painting Nocturnes, Tuesday evenings or Painting Water, Monday evenings. Both are 6-9 PM, starting the week of August 17, 2026.

I upload videos of these online classes and you have access to them for as long as there’s YouTube. That means you can review them if you need a refresher or have to cut out early.

My own self-assessment

Someone recently told me I need to learn to ‘love myself.’ I cracked up; I spend more time on self-care than anyone but movie stars and influencers.

The activities that interest me most are painting, teaching painting, and writing about painting. Self-assessment is notoriously unreliable, but I think I’m good at these things.

These musings were prompted by Mark Gale texting, “I think, Carol, you can certainly teach people to paint.” That jogged me into asking a few of my Berkshires workshop students to tell you about their experiences. I decided to leave them unedited. Read through them, and imagine what a workshop can do for you.

The absolutely incredible view from HomeFarm at Undermountain, courtesy Berkshires Online

Cheryl Shanahan

Carol Douglas has made me a better painter—twice. I first studied with her in Acadia National Park (2024) and returned for her Berkshires workshop (2025) because I knew I’d be challenged in all the right ways.

We painted at several inspiring locations, including a historic horse farm, a Shaker village, an orchard, and a waterfall (bring your bug spray).

Carol has a remarkable ability to meet every student where they are, offering thoughtful, individualized instruction that sharpens observation, strengthens drawing, and builds confidence.

Under her guidance, I became more intentional about sketching from life, mixing color from direct observation, and exploring gouache as a new-to-me medium.

If you’re willing to arrive with an open mind, work hard, and embrace constructive feedback, you’ll leave painting at a higher level than when you arrived.

Becca Wilson

Taking Carol’s workshops has made me a much stronger painter because she emphasizes the fundamentals in a way that is approachable and immediately practical. I came away with a much better understanding of color theory, working with a limited palette, creating value studies, scaling up drawings, composition, and techniques for painting challenging subjects like multi-roofed barns, gnarly old tees, and clouds. Those are skills that continue to influence every painting I make.

The Berkshire workshop was especially memorable because it was relaxed, encouraging, and full of opportunities to explore. We painted in several beautiful locations, and Carol gently pushed me to choose subjects I probably wouldn’t have attempted on my own. That challenge expanded both my confidence and my way of seeing a landscape.

Carol doesn’t just demonstrate techniques. She teaches you how to really observe what you’re seeing, which completely changes the way you approach a painting, no matter the medium. 

My advice to future participants would be to stay open to painting subjects outside your comfort zone and to trust the process. Carol creates an environment where experimentation feels safe, and that’s where a lot of the learning happens. I particularly loved the final critique with my fellow students. Whether you’re looking to strengthen your technical skills or simply grow as an artist, you’ll leave with both new knowledge and renewed confidence.

Lynda Mussen painting under a changeable sky in the Berkshires. She’s coming back to Schoodic this year.

Lauren Hammond

In 2024, I attended the Berkshire workshop. The moment I arrived, I realized it was the perfect setting to learn how to paint layered bands of green trees, open fields, and wooded landscapes. I dove right in, and with Carol’s generous guidance, I made significant progress in this area.

Amy Holderness

I had the pleasure of taking Carol Douglas’s five-day painting workshop in the beautiful Berkshires, and it was a truly memorable experience as it was my first time taking a workshop like this.  Each day brought us to a different location, offering fresh inspiration and new challenges as we painted our way through the stunning landscape.

Carol is a wonderful teacher who shares her knowledge and encouragement in a way that makes you want to keep painting and improving. One of the best compliments I received during the workshop was, “I wish I had painted that.” It was such an encouraging moment and a reminder of how much I had grown over the course of the workshop.

One of the best pieces of advice Carol gave me was to start each day with a small, 20-stroke painting. This simple exercise helped me loosen up, focus on the essentials, and let go of the pressure to make every painting perfect. The 20-stroke painting I did on-site was eye opening as I learned how to plan my work in advance and then just go for it. 

Kimberly Quinn-Jones’ underpainting on Blueberry Hill at Schoodic.

I came away from the workshop with new skills, renewed confidence, and wonderful memories of painting in the Berkshires. I highly recommend Carol’s workshop to anyone looking to grow as a painter while enjoying a truly inspiring and supportive experience.

I have just two workshops left in 2026! Reserve your spot:

Can’t commit to a full workshop? Work online at your own pace:

Seven Protocols for Successful Oil Painters

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Who painted it better?

The Hay Wain, 1821, John Constable, courtesy National Gallery (London). This picture was one of three Constables selected for the Salon of 1824.

A recent op-ed piece by Waldemar Janusczak says that J.M.W. Turner would defeat John Constable in three rounds, based on his early talent, his breadth of travel and style and his influence on future painters. Stuff and nonsense, I say.

Modern plein air painting

Artists have been sketching outdoors for as long as there has been art, but Constable was the seminal figure in making it a movement. He made outdoor painting central, systematic, and intellectually serious. Since plein air painting has been the most important movement in figurative art since his time, that makes his influence at least as important as Turner’s influence on abstraction.

Before Constable, outdoor work was preliminary. Field sketches were to be improved, idealized, romanticized and rearranged in the studio to suit classical taste. The natural world was a reference, not the final authority.

Venice: The Dogana and San Giorgio Maggiore, c. 1834, JMW Turner, National Gallery of Art (Washington, DC)

Constable believed that nature itself was the subject. He painted it as investigation, not as rough notes. His famous cloud studies were often dated, timed, and annotated with weather conditions. His approach was revolutionary.

In the early 19th century, working outdoors at scale was unheard of. So was taking the landscape of your home seriously. Instead, aspiring artists (like Turner) made the obligatory grand tour of Europe, focusing on Italy. The real issue is how far they traveled artistically, and the answer for both is: very far indeed.

French painters at the 1824 Salon were stunned by the freshness of Constable’s palette, his broken brushwork and the rawness of his field studies. These could only come from the real observation of nature. This directly inspired the Barbizon School painters, who in turn passed these ideas along to Impressionism. Constable may seldom have left England, but his work sent ripples across Europe. Without his insistence on painting outdoors, modern landscape painting would look very different today.

Seascape Study with Rain Cloud, c.1824, John Constable, courtesy Royal Academy of Arts (London)

Today, plein air has a vast global influence, being both participatory and accessible. What it isn’t is avant garde. Perhaps that makes it less important to art critics. 

False framing

Turner was born in April, 1775 and Constable in June, 1776, making these their 250th birthdays. It’s tempting to see them as rivals, but any kind of competitive comparison is a false framing. It misrepresents what art and artists are all about.

Turner and Constable were very different painters, not opponents in a zero-sum game. Yes, there’s a famous story from the Royal Academy Exhibition of 1832 where Turner saw Constable’s warm canvas set against his own cool canvas. The legend goes that Turner slapped a blob of red onto his canvas at the last moment and Constable quipped, “He has been here, and fired a gun.” But that says more about gossip culture than it does about the two men.

Rain, Steam and Speed – The Great Western Railway, 1844, JMW Turner, courtesy National Gallery (London)

Why do winner-loser narratives persist in the world of art criticism? They’re easy clickbait. They fit tidy tropes but they distort a deeper truth. There is no hierarchy of greatness when it comes to painters. They all have audiences to whom they speak and lessons they impart.

Framing art in terms of competition is pernicious, whether that competition is a local art show or a master-painter designation by an organization. It makes painters take fewer risks, work towards the mainstream, and constantly look over their shoulders.

I have just two workshops left in 2026! Reserve your spot:

Can’t commit to a full workshop? Work online at your own pace:

Seven Protocols for Successful Oil Painters

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A week of painting, a night of celebration

Cheryl Ryan painting at Beauchamp Point.
My intrepid class at Colin Page’s gallery.

After a week painting outdoors in this limpid October light, my workshop students are showing their work! Join us tonight, Friday, October 10, 5–7 PM at the Carol L. Douglas Gallery, 394 Commercial Street, Rockport for my final gallery opening of the season — with new student pieces and some of mine on the walls too.

Their work is still wet and oh, so fresh. These students range from absolute beginners to experienced painters, and their progress this week has been wonderful to watch.

Cheryl Ryan painting at Beauchamp Point.

This is the last event of the year before I close for the season, as I’ll be heading for Arizona next week for the 21st Annual Sedona Plein Air Festival. It’s a wonderful chance to see both my students’ work and mine.

I’d like to regale you with stories about their courage in the face of rain, fog, sleet, wind and snow, but the weather this week has been absolutely wonderful. (I keep telling you that autumn is the best season in coastal Maine.) Other than a rogue wave nearly washing Dave and his easel off the rocks, it’s been a blessedly drama-free week. I’ve driven them hard, however. I know they’re tired, and ready to join you for a glass of wine and conversation.

Plein air painting is never boring. First, there were skinny-dippers, then these four scuba divers…

We’ve painted at Beech Hill, Camden harbor, Beauchamp Point and Owls Head, giving us granite rockscapes, the long view of Penobscot Bay, lobster boats and fall color. Come meet the artists, enjoy light refreshments, and take home a piece of Maine, painted with heart and immediacy.

Somehow my workshops always seem to involve dogs. That’s Ellie curling up with Mike and Sharron.

My 2026 workshop and Zoom class schedule will be published soon. Watch this space for more information.

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The most common plein air question I’m asked

No Northern Lights tonight, 6X8, oil on canvasboard, $348 includes shipping and handling in continental US.

Set up an easel in public and you’ll make new friends (whether you want them or not). People are endlessly curious, and generally very kind. They stop to look, they smile and they usually ask me something along the lines of:

How long did it take you to paint that?

It sounds simple, and we hear it a lot. The temptation is to be annoyed. But these people are really asking something deeper. They may be trying to gauge effort: how hard is plein air painting? Sometimes they’re wondering why such a little canvas costs so much. Sometimes, they’re really asking whether they, too, could ever do this. (The short answer is, of course, yes—with time and instruction.)

A closely aligned question is, “how long have you been painting?” I’ve been drawing and painting for as long as I can remember, and I was painting in oils by the time I was ten. I don’t want to frighten people away by telling them that; the changes as I’ve matured are largely about content, not technique.

Lake of the Woods, 12X16, oil on archival canvasboard, $1159 unframed includes shipping and handling in continental US.

Most plein air sessions clock in at around three hours, and they seldom go more than eight or ten, even for the largest, most complex canvases. But as every painter knows, the time in any single painting is cumulative. It’s both those hours and the fifty-seven years I’ve been painting, rolled together.

Every brushstroke any of us take is backed by years of practice and thought. That includes drawing skills honed in sketchbooks, color theory tested in the few hundred mediocre canvases on my shelves. It includes much study of art history. Even the hours I spend every morning on the trail contribute to my seeing. So, while any single painting may have been done in an afternoon, the groundwork was laid over decades. And only some of that groundwork is brush-in-hand. I used to rue the years I spent slogging in a day job as ‘wasted time,’ but it all contributes to where I am right now.

Early Morning at Moon Lake, 6X8, oil on archival canvasboard, $348 includes shipping and handling in continental US.

A landscape painting rests on four pillars

  • Observation. You must learn to really see, not just look.
  • Drawing. Every strong painting rests on structure. If the angles, proportions, and shapes are wrong, the whole thing wobbles.
  • Color theory. The harmony of a painting comes from understanding how colors interact.
  • Brushwork. This is the visible handwriting of the artist. Loose or tight, bold or delicate, brushstrokes reveal both skill and personality.

Plein air painters work fast

That doesn’t make their work any less compelling. Plein air painting is to studio work as sketching is to drawing. Neither is superior or more artistic; each has its place. Plein air is a craft that anyone can learn with time, patience, and practice. And maybe the next person who stops to chat with me will take the conversation as an invitation to pick up a brush himself.

Marshes along the Ottawa River, Plaisance, 8X10, oil on archival canvasboard, $522 includes shipping and handling in continental US.

How about you?

If you’ve ever asked that same question—if you’ve ever wondered whether you could paint a landscape yourself—come find out. Join me for the October Immersive Workshop in Rockport, Maine. This weeklong plein air painting workshop is designed to help you learn observation, drawing, color, technique and brushwork. You’ll leave with the confidence and tools to pursue serious painting.

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Plein air painting workshop stories

Double rainbow over Camden Harbor. I didn’t get a picture of Brad in his horse-head mask.

“What are your most memorable plein air painting workshop stories?” I was recently asked. There have been very few that were tough, like the year I had two students with sprains at Schoodic Point. To paraphrase Oscar Wilde, “To lose one may be regarded as a misfortune, to lose two looks like carelessness.” They bandaged up just fine.

But absurdities are not unknown. I had my group seated in a circle at Mace’s Pond. Dennis was closest to the water, and we all stared at him openmouthed while his chair slowly gave way, dumping him into the shallows. Another day, my own easel went airborne off the South Thomaston public landing. And there was the time I was lecturing during lunch and a herring gull swooped down and stole my sandwich from my hand. I resented that.

The greatest light-show I have ever seen, and I almost ignored it.

Weather or not

My group at Camden Harbor ducked into a gallery to avoid a fast-moving rainstorm. Minutes later, we ran out to see a fabulous double rainbow over the floating docks. Strolling toward us along the waterfront was my student Brad, wearing a horse’s head.

One evening I received repeated texts from students suggesting I come out to watch the sunset. I’m more of a sunrise kind of gal, but I was strongarmed. What followed was the most incredible light show I’ve ever seen, and I’ve painted all around the world.

We generally get a lot of notice when we’re expecting a nor’easter, so when one was forecasted, I extended our other days to make up for it. My students, who were mostly from away, thought they’d like to try to paint it. Each of them was curled up in the back of an SUV, except for poor Roxanne, who has a sedan. I timed it, and we lasted 46 minutes.

In a nor’easter, painting in the back of your SUV may not be enough to keep your feet dry.

Dancing by the light of the moon

Nocturnes are not easy to paint. Anyways, people are a lot more tired than they expect when they get done with a full day of painting. But when the moon is full, I make the offer. Sometimes it works, and sometimes the mosquitoes win. One summer evening, a group got really into painting moonlight across Chickawaukie. I called it quits at 10 PM, but Nancy (a retired teacher) and Matt (a college student) were still painting. At 5 the next morning I found Nancy in the same spot, brush in hand. “Are you still painting?” I asked in surprise. No; she’d given herself a few hours to sleep but was right back at it in the morning light.

Things people have told me about studying painting

“When I was young, I shied away from art because I mistakenly thought that either you had talent/ability or you didn’t. Period. It didn’t occur to me that like music or writing, you can take a bit of raw talent and get better at it with lessons and practice.” (Sandy Sibley, Columbus, NC)

“A big part of the attraction of Carol’s classes and workshops are the super cool people I have met. The other part is Carol’s tenacious preparation, taking the teaching seriously and pushing her curriculum through new levels by listening to students’ needs and by Carol’s own insatiable quest for knowledge. The enthusiasm is contagious.

“The only reason I have any knowledge about art is because of Carol; I didn’t learn jack in art school.” (Beth Carr, Avon, NY)

“I have found many new and needed ways of working in watercolors, specifically the prep work… I never had lessons that included these steps, only workshops that were demos, then you were on your own, then a time of critique. Found out ideas that should have been done before I painted. So now I feel I’m on a good new track.” (Carol Durkee, Waterville, ME)

Moon over Chickawaukie.

And long, but I think it’s worth reading:

“Most importantly, Carol, like any good teacher knew when to give space to a young painter like me, and allowed for the natural growth and development of a lifelong artistic expression. In the end, after two years studying at the Douglas Studios, weekends, and after school, the portfolio I prepared was accepted by all seven of the art schools I applied to, and I received a sizable merit scholarship to attend the Rhode Island School of Design, the number one art school in the country.

“When I arrived and met my classmates and began in foundations year, I realized that very few of the incoming students had had an opportunity to receive this traditional type of art training that I had with Carol. That early school work demonstrated that my drawing and color theory skills were far ahead of the curve, and I was very well equipped to deliver quality projects and work, and receive strong grades and professor reviews.  Whenever anyone asks me about why and how I became a professional painter, and so successful at a young age, in the New York City art world I always tell them the incredible story of a master painter named Carol Douglas, who showed me a thing or two and then cut me loose with a paint brush and palette.” (Matthew Menzies, New York, NY)

Are you ready to learn to paint?

“Come paint with me in Rockport this October! We’ll spend the week together making art, exploring, and sharing ideas. It’s the kind of experience that changes how you see your work—and your world. Save your spot while you can.”