Why paint outdoors?
Tapping into one of the oldest forms of art-making to reconnect with nature and yourself
There’s something about drawing and painting, an idea running through the human body straight to the canvas, that is pure magic. The act of putting pigment to a surface by the human hand has produced some of our most revered images, things that tell us about who we are as humans and challenge our way of perceiving the world, like the first cave paintings or Monet’s massive waterlilies.
This is not something I often articulate because I don’t like to get too precious about my craft as a painter. The painting life is laborious and often stressful. It’s easy to get in your head and it means spending a lot of time alone in studios that are often have no natural lighting, are too small, and are built of industrial materials without regard for comfort.
I have found that the antidote to the studio blues is the time-honored tradition of painting and drawing en plein air. When I was in my 20s I did a lot of drawing outside and at cafes, which really got going when I studied abroad in Paris. But something about working in public in the US, especially as I became more “serious” as an artist, became embarrassing. It was too earnest and I didn’t like the attention it garnered from people passing by. Plus it was fun and light-hearted, and somehow I felt like that meant it wouldn’t be accepted by the ephemeral art world. (Which may have been true.) So I gave it up for a rigorous studio practice surrounded by white walls and fluorescent lighting.
But when my dad passed in April 2021, the idea of painting outdoors was the only thing that made me want to keep making art, or doing much of anything that first month. I was at the Nes residency in the north of the island. I didn’t want to think about what to paint or draw. I didn’t want to write emails or articulate my thoughts. I didn’t want to journal. I just wanted to react. I wanted to look at something bigger and more beautiful than anything made by humans. I wanted to disappear into the vastness of the earth.
This project inspired a couple of group painting outings with other residents that became surprisingly fun and social. It made me feel connected to the land, but also to others. It felt freer and lighter than forcing time in the studio indoors. I showed the work with Dreamsong Gallery in Minneapolis and many of my dad’s friends came to the opening.
This experience gave me the bug for plein air that has served me well when I have found myself in other cities without a studio. This last weekend I hosted my first plein air painting workshop with Lauren Powell Gallery’s Sunset Hiking Club where I was able to hopefully pass on the joy of making art in nature.
We hiked up to the Berlin Forest in Griffith Park and painted there until sunset. I like to take a very light hand with my students and see where things lead them rather than teach them the “correct” way to work. I was delighted that by the end one of them made 75% of her canvas a bright Barbie pink with coral pine trees. She told me she was going to go home and add glitter to it. Perfect.
I’m a firm believer that art is meant to externalize what’s happening inside us and communicate in a way that resonates with an audience. And while it’s good to know the rules so you can break them, it’s also good to know what you want and pursue it heedlessly without concern for precedent or “good” taste, ie: make coral-colored pine trees.
After feeling the joy that came from this event, I decided to start a new, weekly outdoor painting group near my house in LA. There’s a park that requires zero hiking to get to and offers a beautiful view of Mt. Lukens and the river valley that runs beneath it.
If you are in LA, or are in town for a weekend, I invite you to join me. It’s easy breezy and meant for beginners and artistes alike. Reserve your spot here on Eventbrite.
You can also follow along on my new MeetUp group, Art Date Social Club, for future in-person and online events. I will be launching a membership program in December so stay tuned…
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I love that you're doing this with others. You are such a gift to the world. xo