Photos Lie

What is it about photos which make them difficult as sources for paintings? It seems like everything is flattened, the shadows are lifeless and the drama falls short. Lately I've been trying to work from photographs if I have done a study on site. The true values and color notes provide accurate guidelines for a proper painting. Photographs lie and distort, but not in a good way.

Last summer I was painting in Capitol Reef National Park when this mesa was suddenly lit up in a magical way. I snapped away for a few minutes with my Canon but the rendition wasn't what I was feeling. There wasn't time to set up my rig and paint as I had just scraped my palette clean and packed up.

Ray saw me standing there with my mouth open. He stopped and said, "Just make sure that big shadow isn't a black hole in your painting. Remember that blue on the horizon just above the mesas and keep it simple."

Several months went by before I finally got to the painting. As I looked at the photo the memory of that moment came back to me. For the first time I ignored much of the color and value information in the photo and painted from a different mental place.

Batting Practice with the New York Yankees

Sometimes I find myself painting in a dream. I'm in the wilds of Utah and my ultimate Painting Heroes are within earshot. This is no workshop, these are true masters at work. And there I am, taking batting practice with the Yankees. Only this is no dream. It's real. I'm a lucky man as somehow I get to paint with the masters on occasion.

I learned a few years back not to get intimidated. When these people are seriously working, my easel is seldom worth more than a cursory glance. It's a magical time punctuated with relaxed conversations, bad jokes and great old stories of past sessions. This is not a session for a "Study." They are making finished work for the Wet Paint Sale at Maynard Dixon Country. It's pretty serious business.

I do have to pinch myself .... Jeremy Lipking is on my right and Randy Sexton is on my left. Charles Muench is next to Randy talking to himself as his brush races over a 6x9. Up on the hill behind us, Glenn Dean is seeing something no else is. He looks like one of those old photos of Edgar Payne.....white hat, perfect posture holding his brush as far from the ferrule as possible. Ray Roberts is over in the trees going for the rich morning shadows in Barracks Canyon. John Budicin was here first and he paints atop a virtual throne overlooking the creek. John paints like he's in trance. My regular painting buddy Mark Fehlman is down in the canyon below.

This truly is a dream. I lay out my design and nod to myself. At my level this painting will be a victory. Charles offers a critique . . . "Nice little painting," he says. Now I'm Walking on Air. This has been a long journey for me. I never thought I would be here!

I feel like by just being there I was a better painter. The conversation takes odd turns. The talk is not about Art. Jeremy starts chatting about real estate in our neighborhood back in California while he sketches out a simple, yet elegant composition. Charles stops talking to himself long enough to give Randy some ribbing.

"Hey Sexton, how can you paint here when there isn't a broken down vehicle or a cabin falling apart?"

Randy laughs. He's working 11x14 with giant brushes in his hand.

Glenn and Ray have painted pair of gems. John is still intense under his umbrella. His painting is spectacular. I had to buy it. It now hangs next to my desk as I write this.

After a few hours the palettes are scraped clean and the paintings disappear into panel carriers. The cars and trucks are loaded and the caravan heads back to Mt Carmel. Each artist kicks up a dust cloud in the late morning as they race down the dirt road.