In the news:

Published articles about Aaron and his work.

Coming up:

• Yellowstone Institute Workshop
• C. M. Russell Exhbition

Some notes from the field:

Painting (and Re-painting) Mountain Goats

I like to think of myself as a tough painter; I’ve painted through wind, rain, hail, and snow.  But on a summer camping trip in the Beartooth Mountains I met my match: the mosquitoes were Biblical.  Painting in the high country required Zen-like concentration and regular applications of 100% Deet.  Here is what I spent more time doing:
 
The mosquitoes weren’t so bad near the lake.

After two-and-a-half days I had only one decent bug-encrusted study to show for myself, and our two-year-old looked like he had chicken- pox.  It was time to go home.

Instead of driving back down to Cooke City, we drove up over the Beartooth Pass.  The road winds up to nearly 11,000 ft. through some of the most spectacular alpine country I have ever seen.  (If you have never visited this country, plan your vacation here. Just wait until mid-August when the bugs have settled down!)

Check out the surprise that met us at the pass!

We sat for a while, taking pictures, watching the goats and mostly feeling thankful just to be there.

I took the photos out many times over the next few months before I decided to attempt a painting.  Goats, cute little kids, big mountains–it almost seemed like too much for one painting.  So much obvious beauty is like too much sugar in the coffee; it’s undrinkable.  Then again, a caramel latte tastes pretty good once-in-a-while.

I kept taking the photos out and then putting them away.

About four or five months later I finally attempted a charcoal drawing.  (I love drawing in vine-charcoal.  It’s easy to move things around and try out different ideas.  It really helps me to clarify what I’m after.  Also, once I start a studio piece, I can refer back to the drawing to remind me of my original intent.)  I also did a quick oil study of just the landscape.  I thought I was ready.

As I blocked in the painting I started to second-guess my original idea.  I started making changes to the painting.  Move the goat up, drop the meadow down, moved the shadowed cliff further left, like rearranging the furniture.

I took out what I thought was a better reference photo (below left) for the nanny and painted her high in the meadow with the mountains behind her. She looked static and there wasn’t enough contrast between her and the mountains.  So I scraped her off, moved the meadow up, and repainted her where you see her in the painting, (and more like she was in the original drawing!)

I was still frustrated. The Nanny still looked out of place.  When I’m really stuck I try to look at art that is better then my own. In this case I paged through a Carl Rungius book and stumbled on a valuable quote: “When you are drawing animals or painting animals you must insist on the separation of planes…If you think in terms of planes, what you do is paint the dark patch and then a lighter patch within it leaving the edge dark to differentiate the planes.  That way you get the ruggedness, and you get the construction of the animal.  You get the feeling of mass on the form.”

Thanks Carl!  I was trying to paint hide, hock, and hair.  Carl painted light and dark planes.

Time to scrape again.

I took out my original reference photos. The nanny (at left) had shed her winter-coat and looked shaved, but I could see her structure and I liked her pose.  She looks relaxed; her kids are safe from predators and enjoying the brief summer bounty.  (Nanny photo detail) That’s what I wanted to communicate.  I painted her the same way I painted the mountains – abstract patterns of light and dark.  Ironically by trying to forget what I was painting, I achieved more life and personality in the goat.

[The painting]

Am I happy with the final result?  (Let me close the Rungius book before I answer that!) I am pleased.  I wanted to achieve the quiet intimacy of a family portrait.  To do so I tried to emphasize light and dark pattern in the mountains while maintaining a close value range and avoiding detail. I also tried to create a circle with the descending ridge- line swinging back into the two distant mountains.  Hopefully this keeps the viewer from getting lost in infinity.  This is big country, but it shouldn’t create a sense of vertigo. Even though the colors in the foreground are in shadow, they are warm, particularly in the goats and in the rocks at the back of the meadow.  This creates a contrast with the background and hopefully makes the family scene more inviting.

It still surprises me that to communicate a narrative an artist has to carefully plan the abstract elements of a painting.  In other words I’m not just painting sweet little goats; I’m painting patterns, textures, and relating colors. When it is all said and done the success of a painting is a matter of taste.  Does the viewer stop and enjoy the place that I’ve brought them too?

 After repainting the goat three times I finally like looking at this painting. This is what I was able to say about a wonderful place. This time I learned a lot from the palette knife – when I use it to scrape off misguided attempts and try again.  I’ll sign my name to this painting and try to internalize the lessons I learned.