Why Artists Should Get Outside

by Anne Kupillas.

The term “plein air” was coined in 1800 to describe Claude Monet and the Impressionists in France.  Plein air painting is simply the act of painting outdoors. I prefer the less fancy term “on-location” sketching or painting (in contrast with studio work). 

Tuscan Hills, View from Florence, 2018.

Tuscan Hills, View from Florence, 2018.

 In Monet’s time, painting outside rather than in the studio was quite a radical practice. This was in large part due to the massive effort required to grind and create their own pigments in the studio. Toting your materials about into the countryside was just not practical.  However, that changed around the turn of the 19th century, when synthetic pigments became available and artists like Monet and his contemporaries realized they could paint their landscapes, haystacks and gardens whilst directly in nature -  directly in the natural light and at one with nature.  This practice was in keeping with the trend towards naturalism, a philosophical movement that spilled over into art and basically was concerned with depicting life “as it is” rather than romanticizing the world. This may seem strange to us now,  especially since we are so used to seeing the world through a photography lens, which accurately captures the world around us. But creating images as we truly see them is a fairly new concept! Before the advent of realism and naturalism, which led to impressionism, romanticism was the leading philosophy in art, and stylized or imagined versions of the world – especially romantic landscapes – were commonplace in the art world.

Since the Impressionism movement in Monet’s time, the act of going outside and painting in nature has been an important part of an artist’s practice, of seeing and connecting with the subject. What was once radical became an accepted practice for almost all artists. Fast forward to today, when it’s so easy to do things virtually – using photos and videos in the studio – and add to that a pandemic that has keep us safely indoors more or less, with travel and on-location painting and sketching put on pause for many artists. Because of these factors, I feel it’s even more important for an artist to get outside and draw and paint.

The more I paint, the more I understand the importance of painting outdoors, with my subject directly in front of me and the elements surrounding me. When I work outside I’m not just capturing what I see. I’m trying to interpret the feeling, the atmosphere, the mood and energy, be it calm or chaos or something in between.  There’s no question of my finished sketch or painting being of a particular location or time– it’s uniquely a specific place in that specific time that I’m putting down, translating in the moment. When I look back at the artwork I’ve made outside, I recall the memories of the excursion, the feeling I had of that day, the weather, my emotions, why I chose to capture that scene, and so on. It’s so much more than just the act of creating the art, it’s all the impressions of the entire experience that accompanies it. That’s rarely the case for me in the studio.

I painted this sketch in 20 minutes outside the Duomo in Florence. I recall so much of this experience – what day it was (it was my 50th birthday and I was on my way to see Botticelli’s “Birth of Venus” at the Uffizi Gallery), how hot it was (101 degrees), how crowded it was (Florence in June), the tourists who stopped to watch me paint (including the one who thoughtfully gave me a bottle of water when mine ran out). It was 20 minutes out of my life and I will always remember it quite clearly and fondly.

I painted this sketch in 20 minutes outside the Duomo in Florence. I recall so much of this experience – what day it was (it was my 50th birthday and I was on my way to see Botticelli’s “Birth of Venus” at the Uffizi Gallery), how hot it was (101 degrees), how crowded it was (Florence in June), the tourists who stopped to watch me paint (including the one who thoughtfully gave me a bottle of water when mine ran out). It was 20 minutes out of my life and I will always remember it quite clearly and fondly.

The lessons you can learn from painting and sketching outdoors are endless. Here are a few important things I’ve learned from the practice:

1.     On location painting is for everyone. Anyone who draws or paints, whether it be with watercolor, my preferred medium), pencils, ink pens, acrylics or oils, or with tablet programs like ProCreate, anyone can take a few supplies out with them and set up outside. Painting outdoors is wonderful for people who like to be outside, in nature, and people who enjoy painting landscapes and buildings, street scenes, gardens, farms, animals and statues. 

But even if you’re not a nature lover, you can get out of the studio and pop into a busy café or an nearly deserted bookshop and sketch –  people who don’t know you’re observing them make wonderful subjects! Not being a big fan of the outdoors shouldn’t stop you from enjoying a bit of urban sketching and from making excursions outside your studio. 

Palma de Mallorca Cafe, Watercolor and Ink.

Palma de Mallorca Cafe, Watercolor and Ink.

Less is more – when it comes to supplies. Many artists carry a portable easel in their cars or when they travel so they can stop and paint a scene that inspires them. Nothing wrong with that, it’s just I’m motivated by traveling light and simple. If I don’t HAVE to bring it along, I don’t. This helps with the weight of my equipment and not losing things or not being able to find them among all the stuff. Keeping it simple also helps keep my head clear. For me, “carrying light” means I can fit all the materials I need into one tote bag (some folks prefer a backpack). I do recommend keeping that bag in your car so you have it with you at all times, not just when you’re making a planned art excursion.  

Last week I was on the way back from an errand and saw a crowd of families at the lagoon and had to stop and paint them. I stayed only about 30 minutes but got in several satisfying crowd sketches.

Lagoon Folks.jpg

Sometimes, I just get hungry and stop at a café on my own, and always grab at least a sketchbook and pencil or pen, and stash it in my purse, so I can sketch the café or diners while I wait for my food to arrive.

Small details at Cafe Gilda.

Small details at Cafe Gilda.

Not least of all, having a portable kit makes me feel like I can venture a little more off the beaten path. Since my kit is lightweight and easy to carry, I’m much more likely to walk down the three flights of stairs to the beach or climb up a bluff, rather than settle for the easier to reach spot. Carrying light has paid off many times with a gem of a view or a more interesting perspective. *see July’s blog on what supplies are in my kit, and what I recommend every artist have with them on location.

The drive and queue at the Griffith Observatory was worth it - for this view.

The drive and queue at the Griffith Observatory was worth it - for this view.

Grand vs. Humble.  Just because I’m sketching outside, it doesn’t make me Monet. And that’s ok. I don’t feel the pressure to find the majestic vista or paint the South Rim of the Grand Canyon every time. I don’t even feel the pressure to produce a recognizable subject, and I don’t think you should, either.

Look around and give some thought to what in front of you most intrigues you. Maybe you want to capture a whole street scene, or the sweep of a shoreline, or the Golden Gate Bridge in fog. But you may be more drawn to a narrower portion of that scene, or a small detail, like a texture on a fallen log, street sign, or weathered watering can.  Or perhaps you just want to capture the color story or mood of the sunset or clouds in the sky, or the motion of the waves.   Humble topics are perfectly good subjects. In fact, they can be better subjects in some ways, because they force you to zoom in on details and hone your powers of observation.

Windows on the Square, Firenze, 2018. A simple subject that caught my eye because of the small details in the ironwork and slatted shutters.

Windows on the Square, Firenze, 2018. A simple subject that caught my eye because of the small details in the ironwork and slatted shutters.

The shape of these leaves caught my eye and begged for me to capture them in watercolor brushstrokes.

The shape of these leaves caught my eye and begged for me to capture them in watercolor brushstrokes.

Powers of Observation. I find that time stops when I’m on location. Whether it’s the zen-ness of being outside and doing what I love, or a combination of that and concentrating, I realize that I often achieve flow. Sometimes, the setting I’ve chosen or found myself in is calm, and it’s a no-brainer to achieve that state. Other times, the setting can be bustling and hectic, which forces me to focus, ignoring action and noise, the hustle and bustle around me, people watching and sometimes wanting to interact with me about what I’m doing. Sans these more major interruptions, I think that the act of tuning out distractions can be meditative and enable us to lose ourselves and focus on the artistic process.  

Many artists believe that painting outside enables them to capture true colors and light, whereas photos (especially camera phone photos) tend to darken values, throw off your colors and distort perspective. So one tip – turn off your phone or tuck it away.  You don’t need to look up what something looks like or how to draw it.  Just observe and attempt. Abstract the shapes and details in the distance. Resist taking a photo and pinching to zoom in. In fact, abstracting details in the distance can help immensely with the story you choose to tell in your scene.   You can always Google when you’re back in the studio, if you still want a photo reference. 

Turn off your phone and take off your distance glasses. Viola! Abstraction!

Turn off your phone and take off your distance glasses. Viola! Abstraction!

When sketching outdoors, immersed in your subject, you’ll notice that your powers of observation are at their peak. Shadows and light become more apparent, the angles of trees or flags in the wind, and so on are much more noticeable in person, using all five of your senses, than when using just one sense and a flat photograph.

With landscapes and street scenes, I tend to remove my glasses, squint my eyes and blur or “flatten out” the scene. By doing this, I find I can reduce the scene to it’s major shapes and values -- always a good place to begin. Once I have an idea of where to start, I confirm the composition with a simple viewfinder activity.  And I almost always warm up with some thumbnails, color studies or a contour sketch. Depending on time, I’ll do these on location and then make a finished painting back home. Point is, I’ve observed what I need to, and made note.

On-location painting leads to better painting in the studio. The lessons you learn outside don’t end when you go back inside. When you come back from an excursion, you bring with you a heightened sense of what you want to capture, and visceral memories of what you’ve experienced. Seeing and feeling things as they are leads to more honest and more exciting paintings in the studio. Painting from photographs alone can’t replace the vitality and energy, and often the spontaneity you can achieve in your paintings, once you’ve spent time doing so outdoors. If you don’t believe me, try just sitting on your front porch or in your back garden and drawing for an hour. Then come back inside and tell me you don’t feel a little bit more alive and creatively refreshed.  Monet was on to something.

Do it for enjoyment.   Making art outside, once you get past the initial intimidation, is extremely pleasurable.  The feel of the wind on your neck, the sun in your face, increased oxygen in your lungs  – these are all natural mood modifiers. Also, the meditative nature which I mentioned above is so relaxing, and I can’t help but come back inside with the feeling that while I’ve engaged all of my senses, and perhaps walked a mile or two, I’m refreshed, both creatively and psychically.  It doesn’t even matter if I “finish” an entire painting or just make some doodles or thumbnails and notes, to work on back in the studio. Half the time, I never get around to doing that serious painting from my studies outdoors. What matters to me is the experience of spending time doing nothing else but engaging my senses and taking in the scenery.  

Stream of consciousness sketching at the beach with friends. Ahh. Bliss.

Stream of consciousness sketching at the beach, all my senses are blissfully engaged. Ahh.

There’s also the social aspect of on location painting and sketching, which I’ve only fairly recently discovered. Plein air painting as a hobby or form of recreation is becoming more and more popular, and there are a lot of groups that meet up regularly at different locations -  to do their thing, but in a group. It’s a wonderful activity that taps into your creative side, gives you a wonderful experience outdoors, allows you to travel to beautiful places around your area and even around the world, and is something you can enjoy with other like-minded creatives. It’s very social; artists don’t have to be cooped up alone in a studio all the time – you can balance your alone time with the need to socialize and refill your creative well. And if making art isn’t fun, well, what’s the point?  

If you’re interested in drawing and sketching on location, with a group of great artists, then I hope you’ll check out the art retreats we’ve planned, with Charlie and I as leaders at www.eatpaintlive.com  We host day workshops and art retreats with small groups (no more than 9) in stunning locations.  I invite you to join us on the first retreat in Ojai, CA in September! There is just ONE spot left – hope to see you there!

***And check our individual blogs and live art streams out on Instagram to see what we’re up to daily:

@eatpaintlive

@charlesleon917

@anneQPdraws

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