Framing & More Framing! Show is Coming!

Mat cutter and mat-in-progress

Wow! It's been a long day and I'm still not done! I've been super busy framing oils and pastels for my joint exhibit which opens at the Bellefonte Art Museum in two weeks. I really enjoy seeing the paintings come off the drawing boards (literally!), and off the easel, and radiate in the frames! Although I'm not fond of the attention to detail with framing (every 1/16" matters), I do enjoy selecting frames which work with each piece. There will be many custom hardwood frames (made by my wonderful husband!) in the pieces in the show, including some hard-to-find PA hardwood species. Many of the oils will be in maple floater frames, and some in closed-corner gold leaf frames- it all depends on what the work needs. For more details about the 'Water Ways' show, check out my website www.alicekelsey.com, and I'd love to share the finished paintings AND frames with you if you can drop by the reception (May 5, 1 - 4:30 pm).

Natural Lands

Last week I explored outdoors near my homeland in eastern PA (Chester County), and am so thankful for the work of area land conservation groups. Thanks to the foresight and coordinated effort by these organizations , many large parcels of land, with mixtures of fields, woods, and streams are cared for, and accessible to the public. Last week I visited Sadsbury and Crow's Nest Preserves, maintained by the Natural Lands Trust (See http://www.natlands.org). I'm grateful for these quiet places to roam, and appreciate. They kindle my artist's eye with color and texture, and unite my roots (boots in the soil of my growing-up) with present day enthusiasm (joy of discovery, wonder) to find what lies around the bend or beyond the top of the next hill. As the weather warms a bit, I'm going back with pastels and oils, to immerse in this land and see what images flow forth.

Linen Canvas Prep

In my studio- preparing linen canvas

Here it is! Another linen canvas in-progress! I LOVE the slightly irregular, criss-cross texture of linen for oil painting. It seems to have some 'life' in it, and this helps me get started with an energetic, free underpainting. The photo above shows the second of two large canvases which I've stretched and gessoed this week. I had some travails with some fabric which I couldn't tame (it had sizing on it which was hard to get off, and the fabric itself was too stretchy so the weave kept distorting when stretched despite wetting and pre-stretching.) SO, after two attempts to stretch this stuff, off I went to our fine local art supply store (Uncle Eli's in downtown State College), and bought a yard of Frederix raw linen, and that's what you see above! I like this linen, and am really pleased with the nice, taut, feel after stretching, which gives it a 'bouncy' feeling when the brushes touches the surface when painting. The white stuff on half of the canvas above is acrylic gesso, used as a ground to protect the linen fibers from the oil in oil paint (which would cause it to degrade.) I'll put 3 - 4 coats of gesso on the canvas, and then let loose on a large painting of Big Spring/ Spring Creek in Bellefonte (based on a plein air pastel.) I'm excited about working on this beautiful linen! Thanks for stocking it Uncle Eli's!

Conversation About the "Something More" in Art

'Betsy's Pear', Pastel

 I enjoy, and learn a lot from talking with friends and fellow artists about art. Here's parts of a recent conversation trying to get at the 'something more' in a work of art. If you have thoughts, feelings, or experiences about this weighty subject, please post a comment. Thanks!

I know pieces which attract my eye, but I can’t verbalize what it is about the brush strokes, etc. that attract my eye.   It doesn’t fit with my stereotype of ‘just capturing the scene’ because there is more there. What is it that gives it that emotional feeling, and you know it when you see it, but what IS it.

That’s something I’ve wondered over quite a lot, because I’d like to be able to find out how to get there more often.  And yet I think it is one of those Zen things that cannot be consciously created.  In fact, the more I deliberately try, like walking into the studio and saying “I’m going to make a great painting today”, that’s going to mean for sure that the work won't have 'something more.'  As I’ve searched around trying to identify those things so I can nurture them, a key ingredient is that I feel really strongly connected with an image.

How does that connection begin/what does it mean?

It can be in different ways.  It might be ‘oh, I really like the movement in through there’ or it might be certain color harmonies going on.  Sometimes it is gestural. The connection is a node where they all come together- the physical, emotional, spiritual.  And to a lesser extent, the intellect, but I’d say this is more minor.  I need to use my left brain as a tool to put it together, but it is not really a bit part of what connects me to the place.  It starts with emotional and spiritual connection of something greater than myself, so I’m joining up with,, getting in touch with life force, which is a bridge into the spiritual for me. Something that ignites me. I guess a majority of the time it starts as a plein air painting ... a spot I connect with in that way, harmonize, get a starting off place.  Yet sometimes it happens as evoked images where I just am letting the image be totally open-ended, and following the Spirit and my emotions that weld together into something that eventually takes form (and usually becomes a landscape!).  What helps a painting be most expressive, is when I have that connection, whether it be from the land or from myself, and the spiritual force I feel.

What is it that I as a viewer would see in a painting that has that strong emotional ‘wow’ in it.  Physically, what is the difference in the painting itself that a viewer would see or feel differently?

The closest I can come to that is some of what David Friend’s principles- it does come to the viewer as a kind of gestalt, that only later can the viewer piece it together.  Something that really reaches deep and engages the viewer is what I’m trying to describe. Does it have a certain quality of feeling- that is highly, highly subjective.  But it is known.   I think the quality of feeling is probably a lot in how the marks are made, the colors, the scale, the overall size of the painting.  And it probably relates to the next principle- are the shapes harmoniously relate?.  It is about the big shapes fitting together in some way that feels ‘whole.’  

I’m not sure asking why will ever lead to a totally satisfying answer.  I think it is very, very subjective.  And then that’s for me the real appeal of it, too, because it is something that can express something that I don’t think words do, and how art adds something to our life that is really, really valuable, but is very different from the other sort of logical stuff which is valuable. Paintings feel to me like a reservoir of life force.  I love thinking of it that way.  It is something that will continue to emanate those feelings and experiences.  It puts them in a way that’s held.  Visual art is really unique in doing that.  Seeing paintings in museums I often feel a powerful tenderness, which brings tears to my eyes. I sense the power of the condensed and distilled emotions and insights.  I think that in any one moment of time of our lives we don’t quite have that degree of richness. And even in those peaks, it comes and goes.  But a painting can distill all of that and hold onto that, so it keeps emanating those emotions.  It doesn’t wear off.  It takes a lifetime as a creator to get to the place to be able to make those really, rich deep works that we’re trying to describe.

Why does it take a lifetime to do that?

I think it is an amalgam of different experiences.  Being intensely, intensely focused, but letting things like flow through me.  Marks done consciously and deliberately are much, much different, and don’t ring true with that power than the ones made unconsciously or by following the guide- letting the work speak to me.   The thing is really, really hard.  To mature as a person, to be able to … in spiritual formation, I’m still working on that, of how to be receptive and attuned, and yet not trying to force something but not trying to ignore it.  It takes a lifetime to do that, I think.  But at least the paintings which really speak to me have that 'something more'....I don’t even like the word ‘unconscious’ – I don’t think it is a psychology thing, as much as a rich, balanced, deep life.  Somebody who is not full of themselves, they’re very sincere.   Just like the work itself is way more important than the artist themselves.

Evolution of a Work - 'Tree Groves - Hot Midday'Tree'

I started this painting outdoors on a hot, August midday.  I know that this is often not a very amenable time of day to paint, since the light is straight overhead. Yet in this case, I like how the shadows directly under the trees anchor them to the ground.   I blocked in most of the main shapes, trying to get the intervals between the tree groups accurate, since this rhythm of spacing was one of the things that most interested me about the scene.

'Tree Groves' - initial plein air sketch

In this second stage below, I concentrated on developing the color and texture in the foreground.  I also did a wash, liquifying the pastel with mineral spirits to solidify the major shapes.  I felt like the foreground needed something to hold it in place, and the reddish color seemed to do it.  I might have gotten the idea from some dried grasses which were in the scene, but more than anything, it just seemed called for.

'Tree Groves' - colors added

The main adjustments to finish the painting then were to darken and define the trees a bit more.

'Tree Groves - Hot Midday' by Alice Kelsey - completed

I like the varied distances between the tree trunks, and the way the more active pastel strokes in the foreground contrast with the quieter ones in the background, leading to a sense of space and distance.

Evolution of a Work - "Spruce Creek - Plein Air'

I went out painting with a friend in early spring along Spruce Creek near Colrain Furnace.  We clamored around, dragging easels and boxes of pastels over logs and along steep hillsides, trying not to fall into the creek.  I was starting to think that we were wasting effort and might not find an inspiring spot to paint, until we  turned around and saw a striking light.  And then my focus suddenly shifted from wandering to a hurry-up challenge of capturing the scene before the light changed. 

I was most interested in the bright light and radiant colors on the far right bank.  The shadow areas and dark trees on the left were important in setting up this 'glow' of the sunlit area as contrast to it.  The triangular shapes of color also interested me in how different sections interacted with each other- for instance, the red grassy bank on the right abuts a green triangle of reflected color in the water, and as complementary (opposite on the color wheel) colors, they energize one another.   The cool blue interacts similarly with the pale yellow.

Sketch from on-location

I remember feeling somewhat at a loss on location.  Even though I was seeing all of these interesting things, I felt that I hadn't managed to get them down on paper.  Repeating the scrambling trek back to the car, I felt discouraged like I wasn't bringing anything of value back home.

After putting the plein air start out of sight for a few days, I pulled it out and was surprised that I liked it.  The overview of colors and shapes and their interactions were more apparent to me, and I felt they only needed to be more fully integrated.  Cropping the image to an upper square took out the distracting detail and unrelated shapes which were in the foreground, and left the dynamic interactions which had first drawn me to this scene. You can see below that I cropped quite a bit out from the original plein air start (in the photo below, you can see the tape that defines a cropped section.  Also notice the pastel marks on the bottom tape- I often test colors on the tape border before using them on the painting itself). 

Cropping to improve the composition

Now that the overall shape motifs and colors had emerged, I worked to finish the painting with a satisfying sense of wholeness, not just a literal copy of the scene.  I darkened the pine tree on the left, and stroked in a triangle of orange directly under it just because it felt like it needed to be there as a counterpoint to the other colors in the image.  The dark mass of the tree makes the light areas on the top right seem even brighter by contrast, thereby emphasizing the main aspect of the scene which had really spoken to me. 

'Spruce Creek - Plein Air' by Alice Kelsey - finished

I feel satisfied looking at the final piece, and am pleased that it went on to be juried into a national show, and was recently purchased.  Looking back on the evolution of this painting, I'm surprised that I could have left the scene that day feeling like I'd failed to do justice to what I was seeing.  Reflecting further, I realize that I often feel this uncertainty in the early stages of my works.  I'm coming to realize that this uncertainty is a necessary part of the creating process for me.... the work evolves one stepping stone at a time, following leads about where it needs to go.

Show Opening in Bellefonte

"Red Barn and Shed in Winter", Oil

I attended the opening reception for the Holiday Show and Sale at the Bellefonte Art Museum today, and enjoyed seeing an interesting array of artwork by area artists. The show looks colorful and inviting, with paintings in many media and styles, photographs, prints, fiber arts, ceramics, and wood boxes and sculpture. Three of my paintings (two oils of local landscapes, and a pastel still life of a plum 'with attitude') are exhibited and available for purchase, including the one shown above. The show/sale continues through January 13, and I hope that you get a chance to see it. Here's the specifics:

Where: Bellefonte Art Museum, 133 N. Allegheny St., Bellefonte, PA
When: Nov. 30 - Jan. 13
Hours:  Fridays - Sundays, 12 - 4:30 pm