Field Notes from 100 Horse Studio

T-bow's Barn

noreply@blogger.com (Richard C. Harrington) — Thu, 08 Dec 2011 03:12:00 +0000

How to paint. To compose a picture. To lay paint on canvas....... or panel.

My approach has evolved at a pace similar to a Galapagos tortoise. But I arrived where I am by studying other painters, and trial and error. I really do think you learn from failure, rather than success, telling people all the time what I believe to be the secret of painting: 500 bad paintings.

Well, you have to be paying attention. 500 without a vocabulary of self criticism would be 500 down the drain. After a few thousand paintings I still feel like I learn something everyday. Failure. Facing it, then recovering.

I started out to be a watercolorist. Winslow Homer's Blue Boat is still one of my favorite paintings, and I love the watercolors of Thomas Aquinas Daly. But off I wandered. I still paint in watercolor, but there was an itch to keep exploring, following a thread. My teacher and mentor Richard Beale suggested pastels as a transition to oil.

I worked in pastel for several years, first as an illustrator, then as a painter. But there was that thread, leading....... somewhere. Larger was the impetus. I wanted to work on a larger scale, and oil seemed like the logical answer. Either oil or acrylic, and I'd used acrylic as an underpainting for my pastels, and knew it wasn't for me.

So I picked up oil, and ended up thinking, What have I been doing? I'm an oil painter.

This all happened over about 20 years. Tortoise like, me.

So what's all this got to do with T-bows barn? Well, I know how I paint and why. The result of all the mistakes. Years of watercolor, and then pastel, have brought me to approaching painting in a way that feels natural to me, like I am laying down uneven, broken veils of color, one over another, till the painting seems finished. A conversation, laying paint dawn, pulling some of it off. Talking in paint, in color, in tone. Usually.

Not this time, T-bow's Barn. Not him. This guy, Wayne Thiebaud. A painter who's work I love, but who I have never emulated, or even thought to emulate.

Where did this come from? Well, the shape is reminiscent of Thiebaud's cakes, and that may have been a subconscious push. Paint like frosting. Where does this thread lead? Anywhere? Maybe its just a short thread. One painting. Who knows. It was very fun and satisfying to paint.

The goins on over the last several weeks......

noreply@blogger.com (Richard C. Harrington) — Fri, 25 Nov 2011 16:31:00 +0000

Barn No. 1, in the series of 30.

They are coming together. 4 finished Wednesday, and after weeks of painting, looking, changing..... the conversation of painting- the remaining 26 will be coming together in the next 10 days. They are offered for sale on my small work site, and I'll be talking some about the process over here too.

It has been a very interesting way to work, learning through the good luck of a random choice. It will change the way I work in the future, in terms of how the changes in one piece can inform the choices I make while working on another.

Busy fall season.....

noreply@blogger.com (Richard C. Harrington) — Sun, 20 Nov 2011 05:29:00 +0000

Here's where I started.

I'm totally swiping an idea from my friend David Oleski. He's off in Thailand, he'll never know.OK, so he'll know. In fact he encouraged it. I'm not as bad as I'd like to think. Several weeks ago I started 30 paintings. They are small, either 6 x 8 inches or 7 x 7 inches. They will be available starting November 25th. One per day, for 30 days. Details to follow.

In between working on these 30 paintings, I've been chasing steelhead. My favorite fish in my favorite season. The river has been stingy this year. I can't believe I've gotten any work done at all.

Here's where I am at as of Friday. Close on a few.

My favorite season

noreply@blogger.com (Richard C. Harrington) — Sun, 25 Sep 2011 15:31:00 +0000

Painting, printmaking , steelheading.

I've had a great and wild summer to share, which I'll try to remember to do amid getting back to painting, some printmaking I'm excited about, and my favorite fishing of the year.

I love to be outside in the fall.

Meet the Neighbors, Part 1

noreply@blogger.com (Richard C. Harrington) — Tue, 28 Jun 2011 13:08:00 +0000

A couple weeks back, Darby and I took the dynamic duo out for an evening stroll, and ran into the annual snapping turtle migration. Migrating from the creek to a nest, then back.

Of course I didn't have a camera, but there were several out again in the morning.

It's always surprising to see how many there are, seemingly every couple hundred feet. We have only a very rare sighting through the rest of the year, despite walking the creek nearly every day.

I'm afraid I'll miss the hatching this year- tiny snappers, miniature mirrors of their mother, trudging towards the water.

Variations on a winter theme.

noreply@blogger.com (Richard C. Harrington) — Thu, 23 Jun 2011 11:55:00 +0000

Stone Barn, Winter Sun, oil on canvas, 24 x 34 inches.

Stone Barn, Winter Moon, oil on canvas, 24 x 34 inches.

British Columbia

noreply@blogger.com (Richard C. Harrington) — Tue, 21 Jun 2011 01:32:00 +0000

At last year's Spey Nation, I was fortunate (OK, crazy, insane, lucky), to win the grand prize in the raffle- a week long trip to the Spey Lodge in British Columbia. The best fishing trip of my life, to some of the most beautiful country I've ever seen.

Morning Walk

noreply@blogger.com (Richard C. Harrington) — Fri, 17 Jun 2011 03:39:00 +0000

An hour, plus or minus, every morning, aiming for the old mantra, A tired dog is a good dog.... well, these two are pretty damn good, tired or not. Time with our dogs can put me in a different place, their focus and intensity, their energy. It brings a state of awareness to my own walk that would be less without them. And they're good company. And funny.

More Ferdinand than ferocious.

I'll introduce a couple neighbors over the next few weeks.

Fishing with Cole.

noreply@blogger.com (Richard C. Harrington) — Sun, 12 Jun 2011 13:07:00 +0000

My friend Alex Cerveniak emailed me this spring. He was organizing a weekend fishing trip to the Adirondacks. He and his 10 year old son Cole would be there for an extended weekend, and other friends dropping in as they could.

I had one night open. Thursday. It was a long drive, but I wanted to go. To fish with a friend. To fish in the Adirondacks again. So off I went.

It was a long drive, and anyone who knows me would be stunned to find out I was the first one to arrive. But there I sat at our prearranged campsite when Alex and Cole arrived. Then Matt and Ed pulled in. After a quick hello, Cole was busting at the seams to get their tent set up and get on the water.

Well, he got his dad organized setting up the camp, and he was ready to suit up in his Christmas new waders. Once he was ready, who was sitting there waiting, already suited up in his new Valentine's Day waders? Yep. Me.

So with his dad's permission, off we went. In the half hour he'd been there, Cole had already proven himself a master of finding anything wiggly, crawly, slippery or slimy. As we walked down towards the creek, he was on the hunt, narrating as we went.

And then out of the blue, he said it.

You remind me of my grandpa. I think its your sense of humor. Or beard. Goatee actually, to be exact. (Yes, that's fairly accurate. A 10 year old Henny Youngman).

I thought- Ouch. But then did the math.......... truth. Hard to argue.

So we get to the edge of the river, and he slows down. Stops. I step in and he looks at me, uncertain. I asked him if he'd waded before. Yes, he said, but never in waders.

I assured him that it was just the same as wet wading, but he'd have better traction because of his wading boots. He looked at me.

You're probably too old to want to hold hands, I said. He glared back. Well, I said, you know what fishing buddies do when they are in big water? We lock elbows. Like this- I held my arm out, bent at the elbow. I assured him my friend Bruiser and I had crossed a heavy current like that in New Mexico this spring. He slowly extended his arm, hooked it through mine, then stepped in.

He took three steps, then gasped, Wait!

Is everything OK?

A long pause, then, I didn't expect it too feel like this! Like what I asked? He said he'd thought the waders would stay big around him, keep the water away from him. But the water mashes them onto me. I can feel the water, I just don't get wet! I said, Is that OK?

He was quiet a minute, and then said, That's awesome.

It took me years to figure that out. That the pressure of the water means so much. The wind. The world. Contact. Engagement.

Life.

Why I fish. Paddle. Paint.

Cole.

Summer's finally here....

noreply@blogger.com (Richard C. Harrington) — Thu, 09 Jun 2011 21:34:00 +0000

Gathering Storm, oil on canvas.

but I'm still painting winter.

A mid-sized study for a much larger piece.

On a Pennsylvania backroad....

noreply@blogger.com (Richard C. Harrington) — Wed, 08 Jun 2011 11:52:00 +0000

as the Bullet crept up a long grade, hauling the trailer, the little bear popped out in front of us. 12 up noon, bright sunny day, about the last thing I would expect. He slowly walked across in front of us, then as we drew close, hopped up on the guard rail and launched into the undergrowth.

Think what you want. I'm taking it as a good omen, as I do with bears.

I've been neglecting all things electronic, while painting like mad. Always having to work at maintaining balance. We'll see.

Off to British Columbia

noreply@blogger.com (Richard C. Harrington) — Sat, 09 Apr 2011 21:49:00 +0000

Some of the other things I like to make- steelhead flies. I'm off on a life-long dream adventure, steelhead fishing in British Columbia. I'll be at the Spey Lodge in Terrace, doing my best to keep concentrating on the fishing while I am in a place renowned for it's beauty.

Twisted

noreply@blogger.com (Richard C. Harrington) — Fri, 08 Apr 2011 21:47:00 +0000

Twisted, oil on canvas, 16 x 20 inches

Artifact

noreply@blogger.com (Richard C. Harrington) — Thu, 07 Apr 2011 18:59:00 +0000

Trespass, oil on canvas, curio cabinet, 48 x 144 inches

I spent a day recently with my friend, photographer extraordinaire Walter Colley. He shot beautiful copy shots of some of my artifact work from last years show. It was great to have it out of storage and get my juices flowing in that direction again. It will have to wait awhile yet, as I have a gallery show and two festivals in May, and several festivals over the summer. But I'm perking on them again- it's primarily a mental game after all.

Lamar Valley Erratics, oil on canvas, 48 x 144 inches.

It's cold outside....

noreply@blogger.com (Richard C. Harrington) — Wed, 23 Feb 2011 15:25:00 +0000

Fortunately it's warm in the studio, and about 20 paintings are underway. From large to small, I'm aiming/hoping to have most finished before the festival season gets underway. But like a conversation, it's hard to tell when it will be done before you reach the end.

Cold close up.

noreply@blogger.com (Richard C. Harrington) — Wed, 09 Feb 2011 13:54:00 +0000

Along Pennsylvania Backroad

noreply@blogger.com (Richard C. Harrington) — Tue, 01 Feb 2011 22:45:00 +0000

Along a Pennsylvania Backroad, oil on panel, 9 x 12 inches.

With the snowstorm of the season dropping down on us, this study takes me back to a late afternoon last summer.

Following Finn

noreply@blogger.com (Richard C. Harrington) — Thu, 27 Jan 2011 15:42:00 +0000

Weekend Update

noreply@blogger.com (Richard C. Harrington) — Mon, 24 Jan 2011 13:07:00 +0000

After ignoring my website for a while, I spent time this weekend getting the two galleries updated and current.
Genesee River at Letchworth, 34 x 44 inches, oil on canvas. The study for a much larger piece from last springs Artifact show.

Five Sugar Maples, 18 x 22 inches, 23 x 25 framed, oil on canvas.

New Day II, 24 x 24 inches, 31 x 31 framed, oil on canvas.

Under a Brilliant Moon, 30 x 30 inches, oil on gallery wrapped canvas.

Early Snow

noreply@blogger.com (Richard C. Harrington) — Sat, 01 Jan 2011 21:42:00 +0000

Early Snow, 8 x 10 inches, oil on panel.

Just in time for an end of year thaw, I put the last touches on a small piece, reflective of the first snow of this year.

Uly's Barn in Snow

noreply@blogger.com (Richard C. Harrington) — Wed, 29 Dec 2010 23:54:00 +0000

Arrived at it's new home in Denver in time for Christmas.

WInter arrived...

noreply@blogger.com (Richard C. Harrington) — Mon, 06 Dec 2010 03:54:00 +0000

this past week, with a quick dump of heart-attack snow, and the arrival of some favorite winter neighbors.

I love to watch the Short-Eared owls, often arriving as a pair, arcing crazily around the fields. Staying low and close to the ground, they'll wheel acrobatically and drop on something small and unseen in the distance.

Darby prefers the Harrier hawks, with their slow, gracefully rocking flight, also low and quiet above the winter turned field.

The cold is sudden, and not altogether welcome, but I've already found a painting in the harsh arrival. Something small, but atmospheric, should be done in a couple more days.

The pursuit of happiness.

noreply@blogger.com (Richard C. Harrington) — Wed, 24 Nov 2010 02:52:00 +0000

I look forward to my wife getting home from work.

To time spent with our kids.

To the company of our dogs.

To work.

Somewhere in a book by James Lee Burke- maybe Jolie Blon’s Bounce?- he writes that the secret to being happy is really just a matter of having something to look forward too.

I look forward to fall.

To the woods, carpeted with leaves.

To the rain.

To the rumbling echo of the river inside the hood of my jacket.

To the light, quick flight of a scandi line.

To the deep, slow, into-the-cork load of a skagit head.

To flies the size of the palm of my hand.

To the flow of the river.

To the tug of a steelhead.

The art season was grueling this year. And it continued into steelhead season, my favorite time of the year.

But steelhead season always brings me back to ground. Last week I met a guy along the river, and we talked, about fishing, work, and life. He picked up on me being frustrated with work, with being tired from the season. And he said, I have the solution for you, from Mark Twain. He said, When you are tired of working, start back when you feel like it.

Permission from beyond.

I am ready to get to work again.

In the studio

noreply@blogger.com (Richard C. Harrington) — Wed, 14 Jul 2010 03:55:00 +0000

Uly

noreply@blogger.com (Richard C. Harrington) — Fri, 02 Jul 2010 13:40:00 +0000

It's been a busy, hot spring, with some heartbreak involved. We lost our dog Molly about 6 weeks ago, after 15 years as the anchor in our dog world.

We had decided to wait til fall to look for a new buddy, but Finn was showing too many signs of loneliness.

So we went looking, and found Uly (Ulysses).

110 lbs. of cure for loneliness.

We're all happy with the addition.

Well, almost all of us.