recent posts

blog archive

follow dawn's blog

Enter your email address to follow this blog and receive notifications of new posts.

musings from the studio and beyond ~

dawn chandler’s reflections on art and life. . . .

 

05.16.2012 ~ cimarron morning ~ back of tooth ridge


cimarron morning ~ back of tooth ridge (philmont) ~ by dawn chandler ~ oil and mixed media on panel ~ copyright dawn chandler 2012

The view from my friend Ed’s place in the northwest outskirts of Cimarron, New Mexico….One of those post-deluge kinds of mornings, when the warming of rain-soaked earth rises in a haze across the mountains. [To get a sense of the menace that battered these mountains the night before, scroll down or click here to see my previous painting.] 
That main ridge line is Tooth Ridge with the Tooth of Time itself hunkered down in the upper right. We’re seeing just the tip of the ‘tooth, so to speak — the back side; the south side of it is a massive sheer face of rock.

I finished this painting….and then decided that Tooth Ridge was too dark. It looked okay, but didn’t capture the hazy atmosphere of that warm, evaporating morning. So to fade the mountains and push them and the distant horizon back a bit more, I skimmed that area of the painting with a translucent creamy white glaze. It worked.

Whether consciously or not, when seeking landscapes to paint, I usually crop out the presence of “civilization.” Call me a Romantic, but I like to image the land and Nature uncluttered by us reckless humans.
Here though I made an exception and left in the Cimarron water towers. I rather like the splash of blue they add. Their presence provides not only further specificity to this view, but also “ground” the foreground with more visual interest; a place to settle the eye for a moment after traveling the long lines of mountain and mesa ridges. 


Some details:



05.09.2012 ~ rayado summer storm

rayado summer storm ~ oil and mixed media on panel ~ by dawn chandler ~ copyright dawn chandler 2012
Perhaps no other canyon on Philmont pushes and pulls my spirit for adventure the way Rayado Canyon does. The southern most canyon on the Ranch’s vast acreage, it cuts the line of mountains with a cleaver of mystery. Philmont’s epic outdoor challenge program is named for this canyon and the river that shapes it. The sides rise sharply and seem to wend eternally to a place of unknown opportunity.
 
If pressed, I would say the canyon’s features are best accentuated in setting sunlight rather than that of morning. For it’s in the late light of day when the sign of the buffalo — the southern silhouette of Fowler Mesa — is most clear and recognizable.

On this summer evening captured in my painting, the buffalo’s silhouette is obscured by a heavy bank of clouds. That patch of distant coral sky seems so innocent, belying the brute force of the storm that is about to pummel my car with marble hail. (I recall spreading a blanket on my windshield during that storm, for fear of the glass breaking.) The light on the foreground is that eery just-before-deluge kind of color, when the hues and scents of the land are keyed up and your own senses are heightened.

Some painting details:

This painting, as with the others in the series, started with a loose umber under-painting and scribing, though it’s hidden to the casual observer:

 

05.02.2012 ~ cathedral rock, i

cathedral rock, i ~ oil and mixed media on panel ~ 12 x 24 inches ~ copyright dawn chandler 2012

A view of Cathedral Rock and the reservoir — the gateway to Philmont’s “Central Country”

Curses Cathedral Rock! You are hard to paint!

When searching for photos of this landmark, inevitably photos seem to be limited to three times of day: Sunrise, midday, sunset.

If you catch the view for sunrise, then the rock is silhouetted. That can make for a beautiful photograph but it makes for a less interesting painting.

Midday the colors are pretty washed out, with few shadows to help describe the volumes and contours of the rock and land. Everything falls flat.

At sunset, if you wait until the sky has some vivid color to it, by the time that color hits, the land has fallen into such shadow that the land and rock are more or less silhouetted again.

Time of day aside, there’s the issue of composition. The typical view of Cathedral Rock is from the southwest side of the reservoir, looking east toward the rock. What a view! It’s gorgeous! And naturally well-balanced, framed with meadow and water and sky. But that’s just it: it’s such a stunning view, it’s the one everyone photographs, so it’s become the iconic view; a cliche. But, it’s accessible. I mean literally. You walk right by it!

What I’d really like to do is get out there when the shadows are long and there are clouds in the sky. Not too many clouds, mind you — just enough to add visual interest, but still allow for sunlight to break through and dapple the scene. Late afternoon sometime.
And then to scramble around and try to get different angles on the scene….

For now though, I’m limited to the images I have available. But if anyone reading this has some good pics of Cathedral Rock, I’d love to see them — even if they are the “traditional” view.

Anyhow, despite the iconic view portrayed here in my painting, I’m reasonably satisfied with how this panel turned out, especially when I consider the inadequate photo it was based on. I struggled to tease out a little more of a sense of sunlight, but haven’t quite hit the mark; my interpretation falls a little flat for me, but it’s okay. I’ll keep trying with other panels.

Below, a few details:

Oh, and this piece — like the previously posted Vermont panels — did start with my “underscribing”. Only this time I ended up concealing all of the scribing with paint. Here’s what it looked like before I broke out the oils:


04.29.2012 ~ canyon awakening

slickhorn canyon, utah ~ cottonwoods, i ~ oil on panel ~ 6 x 6 inches ~ copyright dawn chandler 2012
I awoke here.

a week ago.

….Well, just around that bend… my first night ‘on the trail’ in over two decades.

I’m a bit incredulous by that realization: that nearly a quarter-century had passed since I’d been backpacking.


Where has the time gone?

I guess I’ve just been busy doing other things. Some pretty cool things at that, I’d do well to remember. 

But still.

I was nearly weened on the Appalachian Trail. Some of my most essential memories and moments of divine insight were on wilderness trails with a pack on my back. It’s why, despite my infatuation with “abstract” painting, I keep returning to the land, in an attempt to capture the spirit and beauty of a recognizable — and all too quickly diminishing — Nature.

Perhaps it’s no surprise then that I’ve been feeling the call of the midnight trails again. The spirit of Colin Fletcher must be elbowing out some of my more familiar spirits of late….
Whatever the spiritual intervention, all I know is that when friends invited My Good Man and me to join them on a long weekend backpacking trip in Slickhorn Canyon in southeastern Utah, we jumped at the chance.

And what a trip it was….
…Perfect weather — warm days, cool (but not too cool) nights, the bluest of skies that filled with countless stars — many of the them shooting — on those moonless nights.
…Hardly another contemporary human in site for three days. I say ‘contemporary’ because the presence of Ancients was everywhere. We hiked and slept beneath their abandoned cliff dwellings, their pottery sherds, dried corncobs and painted walls evidence of their long-ago existence.
…Delectable food (Praise Be to Trader Joe’s and Backpacker’s Pantry.)
…Delightful conversation and companionship.

I can’t recall a time in recent memory when I’ve been so completely “in the moment” as I was those three days in the Canyon. 

Hardly a thought of the outside world. 

Rather, my mind was completely focused on the trail… the next cairn… the canyon walls… the stars…. the good company of friends …the incredible blessing of this quiet, soulful land.

04.24.2012 ~ stowe, vermont 02

~ stowe, vermont, ii ~ oil and mixed media on panel ~ 12 x 24 inches ~ copyright dawn chandler 2012 ~

The second of my new landscape series (Phase One) and another snowy Vermont scene.

This painting reveals the underscribing mentioned in my previous post. The scribing is especially apparent in the side wall of the barn:

 And here, in the early stages:

Some may find the scribing offputting, but I enjoy the surface tension and ambiguity it creates. The writing fragments beg questions that the landscape without writing would never raise.

I admit that with spring blossoming all around and the wave of summer lapping on every breeze, it’s a bit hard to get excited about snow scenes…. 
Likely this will be the last time I visit winter for a while. Time to immerse myself in mild climes!