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.

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.

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!

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!

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.

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.

Forest bathing or plein air painting?

Yesterday morning, as I waited for my plein air workshop students at Wahconah Falls State Park, I read this post about shinrin-yoku, or ‘forest bathing.’ That lasted until I realized the absurdity of sitting in nature reading on my phone about the benefits of sitting in nature.

Forest bathing is the practice of immersing yourself in a forest or other natural setting, not for exercise, but to take in the atmosphere with all your senses. I hate the term “mindfulness,” but that’s what it’s all about. The forest is your therapist, and it works for free. Forest bathing and plein air painting are very similar in goals and outcome.

Wahconah Falls State Park in Massachusetts has countless beautiful vistas.

The benefits of forest bathing

According to those who practice forest bathing, time in nature lowers the stress hormone cortisol, slows your heart rate, and helps your nervous system shift into a calmer state. Time spent in nature alleviates depression. Practitioners report they think more clearly and feel more creative after time in the woods.

This may be because trees release airborne compounds called phytoncides. These are natural antimicrobial chemicals that plants use to protect themselves. Breathing them in may enhance immune responses, reduce stress, and improve mood.

The air in the forest is generally cleaner than in urban areas. Gentle movement in oxygen-rich air can lower blood pressure and improve heart rate.

Forest bathing cultivates awareness of the sights, sounds, smells, and textures around you, building a deeper relationship with the natural world. Lower stress levels, more physical relaxation, and natural light exposure during the day can all help improve the quality of your sleep.

Cheryl painting the falls themselves.

How do you do it?

Choose a natural area where you can wander without constant traffic noise or interruptions. Experts say to leave your phone behind, but that strikes me as dangerous; silencing it is enough. Forget about mileage or steps, and move at a slow pace. This allows you to engage your senses, to notice colors, shapes, and tiny details. Listen for bird calls, cicadas (which we heard yesterday) or the sound of water. An often-overlooked sense in the forest is smell. It’s one of my favorite things about walking in the woods.

Forest bathing experts tell us to stop periodically and be utterly still. Let your thoughts drift. Minimally, you want to spend 20–30 minutes, but ideally, seek an hour or more of woodland time. Forest bathers say to end this with gratitude; I certainly feel that after my daily hikes.

Bonnie forest bathing, er, plein air painting.

How does this differ from plein air painting?

It doesn’t. Plein air painting and forest bathing work on your body and mind in surprisingly similar ways.

They both slow you down, helping you absorb details of place without rushing. In plein air painting, you can easily focus on one scene for hours. You shift from going somewhere to just being in nature.

In both, you’re hearing birds, feeling the sun on your skin, smelling grass or salt air. A painter’s heightened visual observation parallels a forest bather’s full sensory awareness.

Forest bathing invites you to simply be in nature. Plein air painting almost forces you to engage with that, because you are concentrating deeply on the environment.

Both activities reduce stress and improve mood. The creative act of painting can also trigger “flow,” where time disappears and you feel deeply satisfied.

Ultimately, both deepen your relationship with the natural world. You give your time and attention, and in return nature offers beauty, calm, and inspiration.

And even I did a quick painting. (Photo courtesy Cheryl Shanahan)

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

Monday Morning Art School: choosing a plein air easel or pochade box

The Gloucester-style easel is great for park-n-paint but I really can’t carry mine very far.

I finished last week’s workshop with a plein air easel show-and-tell at my gallery, because a recurring question is, “what kind of easel is best for me?”

There’s no one-size-fits-all answer, so before you start looking, ask yourself these questions:

  • What size paintings do you typically do outdoors? There are maximum sizes for each plein air easel, and they don’t perform well once you exceed that.
  • What medium do you use—oil, acrylic, watercolor, gouache or pastel?
  • Do you prefer fast setup and light weight, or something more stable in high winds?
  • How do you usually travel to paint?
    • Park-n-paint, where you paint near or out of your car.
      Backpacking or hiking to painting sites.
      Flying to workshops.
  • How frequently will you paint outdoors? A daily painter needs a more stable plein air easel than a once-a-month painter.
  • How handy are you? Paint boxes are simple; a good craftsman can build or modify most designs. However, if you don’t know which end of the screwdriver means business, you’re better off buying one off the shelf.

Remember, all plein air easels and pochade boxes are compromises, which is why I’ve ended up with so darn many of them.

How not to treat your Mabef M-27 watercolor easel…

Watercolors vs. oil painting

Watercolor painters who work small may need no plein air easel at all; they can do just fine with a folding chair and their work on their lap. If you plan to work larger, a pivot head is important. There are a number of options for this, including the Mabef M-27 field easel (here at Dick Blick, here at Amazon).  It can hold a full sheet of watercolor paper on a Gatorboard support and the angle adjusts very quickly. It’s also usable for other mediums, but there are easier plein air easels for oils and acrylics. Also, balancing a palette on its arms is sometimes an exercise in frustration.

Pivot heads are not just for watercolor

There are several other pivot-head systems on the market, and I generally like them because they divorce the support from the often-heavy paint box. The Leder easel at $159 (not including the tripod) is reasonably priced for a solid, stable, painting system. It can hold a canvas up to 24″ tall, which is large enough for most plein air work. You must buy your own tripod and paint box, but that has some advantages. You’re not hauling around a heavy wooden box, because you can pair it with a Masterson Sta-Wet palette box, which is far lighter. It’s also a great system for pastels, because it allows you to use your existing pastel box. In fact, you can flip between media quickly. (Ed says that if you use the code Carol10, you’ll get a 10% discount.)

Terrie Perrine’s pastel box on her Leder easel. Building your own box is a great solution if you’re handy with tools.

Guerrilla Painter boxes are rock solid but too heavy for me (I just gave my last one to a friend). They do make a fabulous support, the No. 17 Flex Easel. It still requires a tripod with a pivot head and some kind of box, but En Plein Air Pro makes an excellent shelf that will hold your stuff.

Another option in this family is the Coulter Art Box, which has a pivot head and a box with a wraparound support that grabs the legs of your tripod.

This is where being handy is helpful; many artists have modified or built flat paint boxes at a fraction of the cost of an off-the-shelf version. I built mine.

Pochade boxes

There’s so much variety in pochade boxes that I can’t possibly mention every choice. For most fieldwork I use an Easy L box, which I have in three sizes, including an 8X10 that’s light enough to backpack. I bring an Easy L box when I’m flying.

The New Wave u.go pochade is a simple, elegant design, but even the largest is really only suitable for smaller work. Its mixing area is very shallow; that’s a problem if you use lots of paint. However, the palette does lift out so you can freeze it, and it’s lightweight.

Strada makes the only aluminum pochade boxes that I know of. That’s a pity, because aluminum is less prone to moisture damage than wood. It doesn’t result in much weight savings, however.

About your tripod

A good carbon-fiber tripod and a ball head with a quick-release plate may set you back more than your pochade box. The good news is that they’re lightweight, stable, and almost indestructible. I have only one; I swap it out every time I change pochade boxes.

My students from my plein air workshop last week. Front row: Phoenix Barra, Aurise Randall, David Griffin. Back row: Helena Van Hemmen, Jeanne-Marie Van Hemmen, Lori Galan, Yves Roblin, Marlene Van Aardt, Amy Sirianni, LuAnn Dunkinson, Tim Moran, and me. Missing: Rachel Houlihan. (Photo courtesy of Bill Marr.)

Gloucester-style easel

For years, I used a cheap knock-off of the Gloucester easel. Mine finally snapped in a high wind. The replacement was so warped that I returned it. If you want this style easel, you need the Take-It Easel.

The Gloucester-style easel is invaluable for large work or windy days, but it’s too heavy for me to carry very far. Weight is the big reason so many artists use the park-n-paint approach to plein air. It’s easy, but it’s limiting.

What not to buy

I’ve written about how Google drove me toward inexpensive and fatally-flawed Meeden pochade boxes. It’s always frustrating to watch students struggling with terrible equipment..

Many people have been given a French box easel by loving friends or relatives. If you have one, by all means use it, but don’t voluntarily inflict one on yourself. They’re heavy and difficult to set up. Pochade boxes are lighter and nimbler.

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

Why don’t I teach shorter painting workshops?

Camden Harbor from Curtis Island, oil on canvas, $2782 unframed includes shipping and handling in continental United States.

I’m teaching an advanced painting workshop this week. Today is the third day, and when my students departed yesterday, they all looked a little tired. OK, a lot tired. It’s a lot to work from 9 to 4 in open air, while trying to integrate new concepts.

A fellow teacher once told me that she had been asked to compress a four-week beginner course into two days. “I think it’s a disservice,” she said. “That’s a lot of information to compress into a much shorter time. So, either it’s a very shallow dive or there’s so much information compressed so tightly that half of it gets lost.”

I’m terrible at taking pictures while teaching, but one of my students set up in the shade of an old schooner, and I thought her easel looked darn cute there.

I am often asked about shorter painting workshops as well. They fit neatly into a weekend and the cost is lower, so they’re easier to sell. If they’re subject-based, like ‘painting sunsets,’ they can work because these painting workshops are inherently shallow. They work best for people who already know the rudiments of painting; otherwise, they’re a bit too much like sip-and-paints.

But two or three days are insufficient when it’s a question of really developing style, color fluency, composition and form. And if you understand these concepts, you don’t need a special painting workshop on sunsets or water; you have the tools to paint anything you want.

Downtown Rockport, 14X18, oil on archival canvasboard, framed, $1594 includes shipping and handling in continental US.

What can go wrong? A lot.

Basic protocols for watercolor and oils run to about seven discrete steps, depending on how you break them down. Here are, roughly, the steps for oil painting:

  1. Set up your palette with all colors out, organized in a useful manner.
  2. Do a value drawing.
  3. Crop your drawing and identify and strengthen big shapes and movements.
  4. Transfer the drawing to canvas with paint as a monochromatic grisaille.
  5. Underpaint big shapes making sure value, chroma and hue are correct.
  6. Divide big shapes and develop details.
  7. Add highlights, detail and impasto as desired.

Let’s just consider #2. It’s almost useless for me to just tell you to do a sketch. In fact, if I did that, you’d have to wonder why you didn’t just draw on the canvas instead. You need insight into what you’re looking for, what makes a good composition, and different ways to do that preparatory composition.

Maynard Dixon Clouds, 11X14, oil on archival canvas board, $869 includes shipping in continental US.

I can (and sometimes do) rattle off a lecture on these points, but that is the just the start of the process of discovery. Unfortunately, in a two-day painting workshop, that’s about all the time we’d have for the step many artists consider most crucial to the development of a good painting. You, the student, then go home and consult your notes. They become a slavish list of dos-and-don’ts, rather than a framework for a deeper understanding.

It’s far better that I start with an exercise that allows you to build understanding of composition on your own. That, in a nutshell, is the difference between a book and interactive teaching. It’s why people take painting workshops in the first place.

That kind of teaching takes time.

Arthur Wesley Dow, the popularizer of Notan, had his students work for weeks on line before they eventually graduated to masses and then finally to greyscale and color. His students included Georgia O’KeeffeCharles SheelerCharles Burchfield, and other 20th century art luminaries, so he was definitely onto something. Learning to paint properly takes time.

This is a revision of a post from 2022.

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

Monday Morning Art School: preparing for a plein air painting workshop

High Surf, 12X16, oil on prepared birch painting surface, $1159 includes shipping and handling in continental US.

Plein air painting workshops? I’ve taught a few (gazillion). Like most good instructors, I’ll send you supply lists, clothing suggestions, and travel instructions before we set out. But there are intangibles that will help you have a better time.

Plan to be flexible. In March when I drove over the mountain to Sedona, AZ, the last thing I expected to see were inches of snow on the ground. But weird stuff happens. Weather, light and circumstances change. Adaptability is a great skill, and rapid change is what makes landscape painting both the most difficult and the most rewarding of all the painterly disciplines.

You can never plan for every eventuality—for example, my rental car from Phoenix had neither snow tires nor a snow brush. But if you set out with a broad range of stuff you’re likely to need, more or less you’ll have enough stuff to make a stab at almost everything. And your teacher or peers will have whatever you need to fill in the rest.

Sunset over Cadillac Mountain, oil on archival canvasboard, $869 includes shipping and handling.

Last year at Sea & Sky at Schoodic we knew we had a Nor’easter bearing down on us on the last day. We coped by preloading extra painting time earlier in the week. Everyone got lots of painting and learning in. We had the added bonus of watching a wicked storm crossing Schoodic Point, although there was no paint sticking to paper or canvas in that weather. Then there was the time Cassie Sano saw a bear.

Embrace imperfection: If you’ve ever wanted to learn to paint loose, plein air is your best teacher. You simply can’t fuss over the details in the field, especially in half-day exercises.

I tell my students they’re not in class to make masterpieces but to learn. Ironically, that’s when they often do their best work.

Ask questions: This is a hard one for me, because I’m not one for group sharing, myself. But instructors are there to help, and your peers often have valuable insights. Ask your teacher lots of questions. I’m usually grateful for them, because they reveal places where my explanations have been fuzzy or weak.

Surf’s Up is 12X16, on a prepared birch surface. $1159 includes shipping and handling in the Continental US.

Why should you take a plein air workshop?

Painting outdoors forces artists to observe light, color and form more carefully and accurately than working from photos. It’s far harder, and it teaches you to edit on the fly, so when you do work in the studio you aren’t slavishly copying your reference pictures.

Plein air challenges you to simplify and focus on essentials—composition, light, and value—leading to noticeable skill improvement.

Natural surroundings also spark fresh ideas and emotional responses that don’t happen in the studio. There are people joined by a common reverence towards nature, who are (overwhelmingly, in my experience) supportive, intelligent, and helpful.

Painting in public can be intimidating at first, but it builds confidence in your process and helps you become more resilient as an artist.

Lastly, we teach workshops in places that are beautiful—in my case, Maine, the Berkshires and Sedona—and wonderful to paint.

The Surf is Cranking Up, 8X16, oil on linenboard, $903 includes shipping and handling in continental US.

And sometimes there’s profit in it

Mark Gale sent me this over the weekend: “As I was prepping paintings for a pop-up market, I found myself including a couple from a painting series I took with Carol Douglas. Then I realized I have sold paintings from in-person workshops and other Zoom series with Carol. Yes, she will make you a better painter. She also has an uncanny ability to deliver intangible extras. Students from across the country meet, form relationships and stay in touch. Carol’s alums have an enduring community. And sometimes, that piece you thought was just a class exercise, ends up in the hands of a happy customer.”

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