One scene. Several scenes at once. Tracking the shifting light. Different times of day, different weather. Looking back through the progress of my painting Alfie in Patagonia, what I initially saw as ugly not–quite-right stages were actually beautiful scenes in and of themselves.
Just as Claude Monet in the winter and early springs of 1892 and 1893 painted the Gothic facade of the Rouen Cathedral from multiple vantage points, atmospheres and conditions to grasp at the spiritual essence of his subject – in this case, the light, I realised as I was painting Alfie’s Patagonia landscape that it underwent a similar evolution.
In the initial stages and early stages of the full painting, I had in mind a muted colour palette, purple and neutral greys, heavy dewy ground and a sense of that early morning light. The greyish, whitish light of the sun as it struggles to heave itself above the blanket of winter fog. Morning Effect.
As I kept on painting, something was clashing. Was it the shape of the mountains in the background. Did they recede enough? The foreground was barren, bare. And while it really was that barren and bare: a carpet of dusty grey silt and a smattering of pebbles, on canvas too much dead space just wasn;t working for me. I wanted it to look desolate, but not that desolate.
Just as the light stretches and shifts as the sun moves across the sky, so did my perception of this painting and the direction I wanted it to take.
Cue adding some deeper oranges and purple, playing with complimentary values and pushing more depth. Somehow, Patagonia felt warmer. In Morning Light.
Patagonia is challenging. There’s a haunting spirit about the place. Light changes, subtly. One moment the colours are so dull you’d be forgiven for thinking you’re on the moon. Then, a burst of sunlight can gently warm a patch of grass, removing it’s jacket of frost and transforming it the colour of golden wheat. Patagonia In Sunlight.
Monet had set himself a challenge, and found painting the cathedral difficult. He wrote to his wife, ‘I work like a mad man, I cannot stop thinking of anything else but the cathedral’.
I was trying to conclude this painting, and have some idea as to how Monet felt. Every layer was frustrating. One step forward, two back. Paint over.
Each change I made, each addition or subtraction of a colour, a new layer, pushing and pulling the sky and the mountains, was like the weather playing on the grey lake. Teasing, tempting, taunting. Almost there, almost there sun. Clouds again.
“Everything changes, even stone.”
Then, the light changed again. I painted over most of the canvas.
The sun had come out.
Morning Sun, Harmony in Blue.
“I am more and more mad about the need to render what I feel or experience“ Claude Monet on painting the Rouen Cathedral
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