Tag: plein air painting

Posted on

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.

Registration is now open for workshops in 2026! Reserve your spot:

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

Seven Protocols for Successful Oil Painters

Posted on

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.

Posted on

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.

Posted on

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.”

Posted on

Monday Morning Art School: how to prepare for a plein air painting workshop

A good workshop fosters camaraderie.

A good plein air painting workshop is a growth opportunity. You set aside time to focus on painting—something most of us rarely get to do in the press of ordinary life. A little preparation before you arrive will make your week smoother, more productive, and more fun.

Pack the right gear

Painting outdoors is different from working in your studio. The wind blows, the sun shifts, and you can’t run to the store if you need something. That’s why I send you specific supply lists.

These lists also include necessities like paper towels, trash bags, bug spray, sunscreen and a hat. Don’t forget water and sensible shoes. (If you’re flying, let me know and I’ll tell you what you can safely carry on a plane and what you can’t.)

Having fun talking about values.

Practice with your kit ahead of time

Nothing slows you down more than fumbling with an unfamiliar easel on the very first morning. Set up your easel beforehand. Is it stable? Can you reach your palette without stooping or stretching? Do you need additional space to hold tubes of paint or brushes? Time you invest in practicing your set-up will pay off when you’re standing outside, impatient to get started.

This is my friend Jane, talking to my students about I don’t know what. She’s a crackerjack painter, so I’m sure it was good.

Condition yourself for the outdoors

Plein air is the most satisfying and instructive painting discipline, but it’s also physical work. You’ll be outdoors for long stretches. If you’re not used to being outdoors, give yourself the grace of a little conditioning. Go for walks. Practice sketching out of doors. You don’t have to be an athlete, but stamina helps you stay focused on painting.

Study your fundamentals

A workshop is where I want to start brand-new painters, because I can give them the one-on-one attention that they need. But it stands to reason that the more comfortable you are with the basics, the more you’ll get out of instruction. Do a few quick sketches every day. Don’t worry about whether they’re any good. Think of this as stretching before a race: it warms you up for the work ahead.

Occasionally, you’ll have to watch me demo, but I promise I’ll crack jokes.

Arrive with an open mind

Perhaps the most important preparation is mental. While we want to see change, we’re also afraid to let go of our ingrained habits. Growth doesn’t come from staying in our comfort zones.

It’s not just you who’s resistant to change; it’s everyone, including me. Every student comes into a workshop with habits, strengths and stumbling blocks. Be ready to let go of your routine and try something new. Some lessons may click right away; others may feel uncomfortable at first. You can trust me and my process; I’ve been teaching a long time.

You’ll learn as much from your fellow students as from me. Be willing to share your thoughts, ask questions, and offer encouragement. A workshop is a group effort, and the energy you put in helps everyone rise.

Be ready to show your work

Critique and student shows can feel intimidating, but they’re great opportunities to see your progress with fresh eyes. Remember, everyone else is just as vulnerable as you are. Hang your work proudly—it’s the record of your week’s labor and learning.

Above all, a plein air workshop should be fun.

Ready to try it?

A plein air workshop is a gift you give yourself: uninterrupted time to paint, guidance to grow, and experiences that will stay with you long after we all pack up and head home. If you’d like to take that leap, join me in Rockport for my October In-Person Immersive Workshop. We’ll paint the coast in its autumn glory, have a guided tour of the Farnsworth Art Museum and visit the Page Gallery, where Colin Page will talk to you about his process. We’ll wrap up with a student show. Spots are limited—reserve yours today and come ready to paint outside with confidence.

Posted on

Why does work look different in a gallery?

Brigantine Swift in Camden Harbor, 24X30, oil on canvas, framed, $3478 includes shipping and handling in continental US.

I close out my local painting workshops with student shows in my own gallery (and wish I could do that everywhere I teach). Student gallery shows are about far more than just hanging paintings on the wall. Many of my students are professionals; for them, gallery shows are old hat. But for others, the leap from easel to gallery is mysterious. What does it feel like to have work hung with intention? How do others respond when they see your vision in a professional setting, rather than just propped up somewhere?

Drying Sails, 9X12, oil on canvasboard, $869 framed. Includes shipping and handling in continental US.

Why does work look different in a gallery?

On the easel, a painting lives in the context of wet brushes, dirty rags and the rush of choices you’ve been making in real time. You’ve been staring at it for hours, judging every brushstroke and second-guessing every passage. It feels like an extension of your tired head: intimate, unfinished, maybe even uncertain.

But in a gallery show? Suddenly your painting is scrubbed up and dressed for company. It lives independently of you. It hangs against clean (hopefully) walls with space around it. It’s no longer just something you’re working on. It’s a complete statement, a thing to be contemplated. Sometimes that means it has attributes and meaning you the creator never expected. Strangers stop, look, and give it the attention you couldn’t afford when you were wrestling with it.

That change of setting is immensely clarifying. Sometimes you’re astonished by how strong your painting looks in a gallery. Other times, you see where it wobbles. Either way, the gallery strips away the clutter and distraction of process and lets the painting speak for itself.

That’s why it’s so important to get your work out of the studio and onto a wall. A painting isn’t truly finished until it’s in the world, doing the job it was meant to do: communicating with viewers.

Larky Morning at Rockport Harbor, 11X14, on linen, $869 unframed includes shipping in continental US.

A student show is more than just critique

I believe in reasoned, intelligent critique. It’s critical not just for the painting under discussion but for developing your executive function as an artist.

In critique, the audience is small, sympathetic and hopefully knowledgeable. Critique is about growth, not display. It’s a safe place to experiment, fall short and try again.

A gallery show, on the other hand, is about putting your work in front of people who don’t know your process or your struggle. They don’t care how many times you scraped out that sky; they just respond to what’s on the wall.

Critique is rehearsal. The show is performance. You need both in your life as a developing artist.

Dinghy Dock, 8X10 on archival canvasboard, $522 unframed includes shipping and handling in the continental US.

And then there’s the opening itself. I gave up cooking 24 years ago, but I can serve hors d’oeuvres with the best of them. An opening is a party to which all your besties are invited. Standing in my gallery, you will discover an essential truth: art isn’t complete until it’s seen. That tells us something I can’t predict, which is the public’s emotional response to your art.

Want that experience for yourself? Join me for my upcoming immersive plein air workshop in Rockport, ME, which will culminate in seeing your own work on my gallery walls.

Posted on

Immersive in-person painting workshop — FAQ

Beautiful Dream, oil on archival canvasboard, $1449 framed includes shipping and handling in continental US.

When and where is the immersive in-person workshop held?

The painting workshop runs October 6–10, 2025, centered in Rockport, Maine. Plein air sites include Beech Hill, Camden Harbor, Beauchamp Point, Owls Head, and the North End Ship.

What happens if it rains?

My studio is available if it’s raining. I’ll contact you if a location needs to change for weather.

What level of painting experience is required?

This is a one-on-one painting workshop, which means I can take beginners to advanced painters.

Which painting mediums are accepted?

All portable mediums are welcome: oil, acrylic, pastel, watercolor and gouache.

Clary Hill Blueberry Barrens, watercolor on Yupo, ~24X36, $3985 framed includes shipping and handling in continental US.

What supplies do I need?

Here’s a clothing packing list for a week of on-site painting. Watch the forecast as the weather advances.

If you have room in your kit, feel free to bring more than one medium. I’m happy to instruct in any of them.

These lists have links to specific products. If you’re buying your supplies in a bricks-and-mortar store, please take it with you on your phone and refer to each item directly. Art supplies have many ‘look-alikes’ that can vary in color and quality—for example, I’ve linked to two different Masterson boxes, one for acrylics and gouache, and one for oils. I’ve linked to these exact products so that you don’t waste money on something that’s not quite right.

Plein air supply list—Acrylics

Plein air supply list—Gouache

Plein air supply list—Oils

Plein air supply list—Pastels

Plein air supply list—Watercolor

Apple Tree with Swing, 16X20, oil on archival canvasboard, $2029 framed includes shipping and handling in continental US.

What is our daily schedule like?

Sessions run daily from 9:00 AM to 4:00 PM, with morning and afternoon painting, plus lunchtime discussions and demos.

What makes this painting workshop “immersive”?

This isn’t just a class—it’s a full dive into the creative life of a plein-air painter. Highlights include:

  • Plein-air painting at stunning locations unique to the Maine Coast;
  • A full day of figure study, exploring form and light using a live model out in nature;
  • A visit to the Farnsworth Art Museum exploring the changing nature of plein air painting;
  • A visit to Colin Page’s gallery to meet the artist;
  • Small group size allowing one-on-one instruction, demos, collaborative painting, and reflective conversation during demos and lunches.

How many other students can I expect in my group?

Enrollment is capped at 14 participants, ensuring focused instruction and community engagement.

How is this different from a regular weekly class?

Unlike shorter weekly classes, this immersive painting workshop:

  • Offers extended depth and momentum over five days;
  • Combines lectures, demos and conversation with painting practice, figure work, gallery visits, and community learning;
  • Creates a purposeful and creative environment that mirrors a painter’s lifestyle—living, working, reflecting in community with your peers.
Owl’s Head, 11X14, oil on archival canvasboard, $1087 framed includes shipping and handling in continental US.

What’s the cost?

The tuition is $780, which covers all painting instruction and your admission to the Farnsworth Art Museum.

Where should I stay?

There is accommodation of all levels available in Rockport, ranging from campgrounds to camping cabins to charming Mom and Pop motels to the very chic Rockport Harbor Hotel.

Seaswell Campgrounds

Oakland Seashores cabins

Starlight Lodge

Harkness Brook Inn

Country Inn

Rockport Harbor Hotel

Do I need a car?

Yes, you need a car, but if you’re traveling with a partner, you can be dropped off and picked up at our painting sites.

Don’t hesitate, enroll today

If you’ve been waiting for the right moment to invest in your art, this is it. Spaces are limited, so grab your spot today!

Posted on

Is an immersive art workshop different from a weekly art class?

Drying Sails, 9X12, oil on canvasboard, $869 framed.

My latest reel is here.

Some of us want a teacher who cheers us on at every step, someone who makes us feel seen and supported. Others do better with clear standards and firm instruction. Most good teachers are a mix of both, but it takes time to tease out what a student needs. That’s where a painting workshop comes in.

The fundamentals of painting are light and shadow, proportion, design, color, composition and meaning. A great painting workshop folds these lessons into the practice of painting itself.

In my Rockport Immersive Workshop you’re not just painting for a week, you’re diving headfirst into the whole world of being a painter. These extra experiences are what make this workshop different from a weekly class.

Main Street, Owl’s Head, oil on archival canvasboard, $1623 includes shipping and handling in continental US.

What does immersive mean in this context?

When I say my fall workshop is immersive, I mean it’s a deep dive into painting. You’ll be stepping fully into an artist’s world, nourished by relationships, context, and creative resonance.

I’m really asking you to live the plein air painter’s life for a week. You’ll set up your easel in midcoast Maine’s most iconic landscapes, from Camden to Owls Head. You’ll stretch your skills with figure study in the crisp autumn light. You’ll reflect on what you’ve learned with serious art conversations during demos and lunches.

We’ll visit the Farnsworth Art Museum to discuss plein air painting through history. Colin Page has invited us to visit the Page Gallery, to help map out the conversation between contemporary practice and our own creative path. Then on Friday, we’ll have a group show, with your paintings on my gallery walls—and a celebration to cap off our time together.

American Eagle in Drydock, 12X16, $1159 unframed includes shipping and handling in continental US.

What makes it truly immersive?

  • The extended duration allows ideas and skills to deepen and blossom;
  • Locations are not just scenic; they’re also historical and relate to movements in art;
  • Working alongside other passionate painters fosters creativity and learning that extends beyond instruction;
  • Seeing and discussing art in galleries and museums connects technical practice with where we stand in the great sweep of art history.
Beauchamp Point, Autumn Leaves, 12X16, oil on archival canvasboard, $1449 framed includes shipping and handling in continental US.

Because I keep my groups small, there’s plenty of room for one-on-one support. I explain, demo and then step back so you can try it yourself. The real goal isn’t to make you a copy of me, but to help you unlock your own ideas and refine your own painter’s voice.

If you’ve been waiting for the right moment to invest in your art, this is it. Spaces are limited, so grab your spot today!

Posted on

Monday Morning Art School: the overwhelming landscape

The Vineyard, oil on linen, 30X40, $5072 framed, includes shipping and handling in continental US.

Last summer, one of my students arrived at my workshop with a problem I see frequently. She could draw beautifully from photos, but when she set up outdoors, she froze. “The landscape is overwhelming,” she said. “There’s too much going on. I don’t even know where to start.”

That’s the problem of infinite options, and at times it can be a problem for even the most experienced painters. That’s especially true in a new environment. There is a sense that the whole world is pressing in, demanding to be painted. If you succumb to that and don’t break the scene down, you end up fussing endlessly over detail. Or, by trying to include everything, you end up with a painting about nothing in particular.

Athabasca River Confluence, 9X12, $696 includes shipping and handling in continental US.

On the first day, I gave this student one simple assignment: big shapes first. We stood on the edge of a blueberry barren, facing a stand of spruces set against the immensity of the ocean and the sky. “Squint,” I told her. “What are the three biggest shapes you see?” She hesitated, then answered: “The sea, the sky and the trees.”

That became, in the end, both her composition and her focal points. Once she blocked these in on her sketch, she could move easily into a structured, sensible painting. She was no longer struggling to find a starting point in an immense landscape, and the mindless chatter of too much detail faded.

Coal Seam, 6X8, oil on archival canvasboard, $348 includes shipping and handling in continental US.

By the end of that day, she had a painting that was loose, fresh, and alive. More importantly, she had an epiphany. She realized she didn’t have to paint everything, only the essence of the scene. From that point onward, the workshop was a romp for her.

Every painter has hurdles like this—sometimes it’s drawing, sometimes color, sometimes just getting past his or her own nerves. The good news is: once you know the roadblock, you can break it down. That’s where good instruction and practice make all the difference.

But don’t take my word for it

Here are some of the comments I received after last year’s October immersive plein air workshop:

“The week started as an exercise in frustration, for all the varied reasons that make watercolor challenging. But Carol, with a sprinkling of her magic dust, managed to turn it into a high by Friday afternoon.” (Rebecca)

“It was a week of growth for me! Thank you, Carol, for a wonderful learning experience.” (Lynda)

“What a magnificent experience this has been to meet everyone, be a part of a week of learning, living, creating, with like-minded artists and a teacher with significant range… I loved our week together and would do it again in a heartbeat.  I learned so much from Carol, which was the icing.” (Jody)

Eastern Manitoba River, 6X8, oil on archival canvasboard, $348 includes shipping and handling in continental US.

“I had a wonderful week! I learned a lot and am left energized and motivated to put all my new-found methodology to work.” (Beth)

“Thank you for the abundant art wisdom, patience and willingness to give of yourself.” (Sandy)

“This is the first workshop I’ve attended without a 2–3-hour demo to start every day and it was WAY better!  The personal attention addressing my painting–where I’m at and where I’m trying to go–was so much more helpful than watching someone paint then trying to relate it to my work.  The demo at the end of the week solidified all that we had discussed all week. (Christine)

If you’ve ever felt overwhelmed when standing in front of a landscape, don’t put off tackling it. My October immersive plein air workshop is your chance to face it head-on.

But space is limited, and October will be here before you know it. Don’t wait—secure your spot today, and give yourself the breakthrough you’ve been waiting for.

Click here to reserve your place before it’s gone.

Posted on

Choosing a plein air painting site

Even on cloudy days, the view from on top of Beech Hill is stupendous.

I occasionally get so interested in driving around looking at things that I forget to paint. That’s kind of silly, since I live in a scenic wonderland. Still, we’ve all done it. Sometimes it seems like the hardest part of painting outdoors is picking the spot.

A good painting isn’t about the perfect view, it’s about what you do with the shapes, values, and colors in front of you. Some locations make that job a lot easier.

Spruces on Beech Hill provide necessary architecture and shadow structure for a good plein air painting.

Look for strong shapes, not postcard views

This can be a real challenge in places with sweeping vistas and no foreground interest. Long views are beautiful and look great in person, but when they’re all middle values and no structure, they don’t translate well to canvas. The basis of a good painting is a strong pattern of lights and darks. Take off your glasses or squint. If there’s no ‘there’ there, there’s no painting, either.

Mind the light

Photographers talk about ‘golden light,’ those early morning and late afternoon periods when long shadows play against warm highlights. That’s a goal, but it doesn’t always happen. Starting with a good value sketch makes light changes more manageable. And you can always seek out strong architectural shapes, like trees and rooflines, to create composition on an overcast day.

Jeanne-Marie wisely took advantage of shade at the summit of Beech Hill.

Consider your comfort

I don’t paint well when I’m too hot, too cold, or bedeviled by flies. Nor can I concentrate when I’m concerned about traffic. A miserable painter makes a miserable painting.

This is high on my list of reasons to paint in a workshop. Those ergonomic issues are mostly worked out for you.

I can’t always promise you big raptors or ravens, but we frequently see them floating above the Camden Hills.

Start simple

It’s so tempting to throw everything in the view into a single canvas. You’ll get clearer compositions and structure if you concentrate on a single tree against a field, a barn with strong shadows or a boat against lapping waves. There’s a place for complex compositions, but work up to them.

Why I love to take students up Beech Hill in October

Beech Hill is the perfect mix of big skies, sweeping views, and constantly-changing light, all in a 360° panorama. Penobscot Bay stretches out like a sheet of hammered silver, dotted with islands. To the west, the Camden Hills blaze in reds, golds, and deep greens. The summit is a blueberry barren, and right at the very top is Beech Nut, an iconic stone hut with a sod roof.

Beech Hill is all about big shapes and strong value patterns, with both foreground interest and far vistas. It’s a natural classroom for learning how to simplify complex scenes, which is the heart of great plein air work.

And then there’s the light. On a clear day, you’ll see the kind of color shifts and shadows that make painting outdoors addictive. Even when it’s overcast, the muted harmonies are spectacular.

Marlene painting among the flowering plants.

During my October Immersive Plein Air Workshop, we’ll paint on Beech Hill and other hand-picked locations that challenge and inspire. You’ll learn how to:

  • Break down vast vistas into simple, paintable shapes;
  • Use atmospheric perspective to create depth;
  • Handle fast-changing coastal light without panic;
  • Keep your values organized so your painting reads at a glance.

Want to learn this in real time? Join me for my October Immersive Plein Air Workshop, where we’ll spend a full week in some stunning autumn landscapes—learning not just where to set up, but how to build strong, confident paintings on site. Spaces are limited.
Click here to reserve your spot.