Here at last are some of the studies that I did on the Yellowstone winter painting trip:  They are all in the 8×10 to the 9×12 range.

For more on the trip be sure to pick up a copy of the summer arts issue of Big Sky Journal- I’ve written an article about the adventure for the magazine.  Here’s a studio piece based on one of the studies, “Obsidian Creek in March.  18×28:

All in all, it was a fantastic trip that makes me smile every time I think of it!  Can’t wait to do some more studio pieces based on the studies.

Every once in a while I have a crazy scheme that somehow works.  This one involved Yellowstone in winter via snowcoach.  Throw in some artists, a photographer and away we go.  Every time I paint Yellowstone in winter I think, “I have to share this place with some other artists.” Yellowstone’s longest and arguably most beautiful season is so rarely painted, and that is a shame.  I decided I had to find a crew of artists that were willing to brave the elements and paint the park in winter.

Here is our transportation, the artist-mobile, basically a van on tracks:

From left to right we have Brent Cotton, David Slonim, Kathy Wipfler, Joyce Lee, Ned Mueller, Greg Scheibel, myself, and our fantastic photographer, Audrey Hall.  Not pictured is Matt Long, our driver and guide, who knows everything you could possibly know about Yellowstone.

We all met in Gardiner, painted the Lamar Valley for a day, and then took the snowcoach into Old Faithful, where we stayed in cabins.  All told we painted for four long days.

Here’s Dave “The Janitor” Slonim setting up to paint on the Yellowstone River:  (Thanks David for keeping us all laughing!)

I believe he’s coveting Brent’s hat, thinking it will compliment his blue coveralls.  

I’d like to say that we suffered for our art, but it was unusually warm and the weather was magnificent.  We painted our way down to Old Faithful, spent a day painting in the geyser basins, and finished the last day with a session at Artists Point overlooking the Grand Canyon of the Yellowstone.  Here’s a couple pictures of what we got to stand behind our easels and look at:

This, in a word, is Paradise.  And I got to share it with a fine crew of amazingly talented artists!  We laughed and painted and laughed and painted and laughed some more… and took pictures and watched bison and wolves and tried not to go blind from the March sun reflecting off the snow.  I’ll be smiling for a very long time. Can’t wait to touch up the field studies and start thinking about studio pieces.  Be sure to pick up a copy of the summer arts issue of Big Sky Journal for an article about the trip, and look for an exhibit at a later date…

A toast to the artists, to our guide Matt, and our fine (and patient!) photographer Audrey.  You are an amazing crew of talented and generous people. I’m honored to have had the chance to paint alongside you all.

Now it’s back to the studio to get ready for the CM Russell Exhibit, sigh…

For years I’ve done charcoal preparatory drawings, and then put them in a drawer.  A few friends have seen my “stash” and encouraged me to show them, so I thought I’d talk about this critical step in my creative process.  My process is to do a plein air painting in oil or pastel, and then to do a charcoal drawing back in the studio, based on the field study.  If I can I size the charcoal to the studio piece that I plan to do.  Then when I’m finished I trace the main lines of the image, turn the tracing paper over, copy the lines with charcoal, turn the paper back over and rub it onto the canvas or paper.  Now I’m ready to go!

Charcoal is the “what if” step in the process: What if I eliminate that tree, or move it over here?  What if I make the mountain bigger or smaller?  What if I nudge the whole thing toward evening?  I work in vine charcoal, usually the big fat sticks.  First I cover in the paper in charcoal and rub it in with a cloth. Second I draw in the main lines, this is what I call “land lines”,  the horizon and the big basic shapes.  Third I mass in the darks.  After this the process is more organic; I pull out the lights with an eraser and put the darks in with charcoal.  For mid-tones I uses a stump or cloth.  It’s so easy to make changes,   I can take out a tree with the wipe of a cloth, and then put it back in with the side of the charcoal, and without the added complexity of color I can usually finish a drawing within a few hours.  If a piece doesn’t work in black and white, chances are it won’t work in color.

When I move onto the studio painting, I refer back to the study and the charcoal drawing.  It’s easy to lose track of important elements in a painting; in the process of laying in the sky, I might lose the shape of the tree.  Then I refer back  to the drawing and I remember where I meant to go.  It also reminds me to keep my colors tied to proper values, and to keep each element (say a back of trees) within a value “family.”

Perhaps the most important benefit of this step is that working in charcoal helps me to move away from slavishly copying toward a more personal statement.  The landscape becomes more of a departure point for my own ideas.  The changes are often subtle, but important.

So here’s a handful of drawings.  Let me know what you think.