Kathleen Dunphy OPA

Why I Paint En Plein Air

Kathleen Dunphy OPA · Aug 14, 2023 · 8 Comments

"Exhilaration" by Kathleen Dunphy OPA — *Exhilaration* by Kathleen Dunphy OPA

*Winter Color Notes* by Kathleen Dunphy OPA
6″ x1 2″

The answer is simple: no painting done from a photo can ever compare to the energy, immediacy, and sense of place that can come through in a plein air piece. Somehow the feel of the day, be it heat or cold or wind or just a perfectly pleasant morning, makes its way down the arm and off the brush and onto the canvas. I wish I knew how it happens so I could fake that quality in the studio, but that’s the magic of plein air. Our experience comes out on the canvas. All our senses help to create the painting, not just our vision. We hear the cows lowing, we feel the breeze, we smell the hay…..it’s all there on the canvas. Even my worst plein air pieces have some small element of that particular day in them. I feel like I’m recording a moment in history: it will never be July 28, 2023 at 6:00 in the morning ever again in the history of the world, but now I have a little bit of it on canvas. How exciting is that?

*Land’s End* by Kathleen Dunphy
12″ x 16″

Not all of my paintings are completed on location, and I paint many larger works entirely in the studio. But every piece I paint has its genesis in plein air studies. Working solely from photos leaves my paintings looking flat and unexciting. I use my reference photos to jog my memory or to help me come up with better designs that I may have overlooked when I was on location. But I can’t tell you how many times I’ve discarded a studio painting because I didn’t have enough plein air information on the scene to make the painting look convincing and alive. All the answers are outside, and even the most frustrating day of plein airing brings a more acute awareness of the subtleties of painting from life. Those skills honed outside make the studio work that much easier and fun.

"On The Way Home" by Kathleen Dunphy OPA — *On The Way Home* by Kathleen Dunphy OPA

The day after that disappointing plein air excursion, I went out and hit it again…driving to that same spot and waiting for the sun. And this time it was perfect–all the things I love about painting outside came together in a couple of magic hours. I painted two quick studies for a larger studio piece I’ve had rattling around in my head for some time now, then rewarded myself with a loose, just-for-the-heck-of-it study on the way home. Standing in the shade of an oak tree with my dogs lounging around my feet, painting blooming oleander and distant hills with no expectations in mind except for the fun of putting paint on canvas: that’s just about as good as it gets. And that’s why I plein air.

Think Snow: 6 Painting Lessons from the Ski Trails

Kathleen Dunphy OPA · Jan 21, 2019 · Leave a Comment

There’s not much I love doing more than painting, but cross-country skiing comes close. There are many beautiful days in the winter when I‘m torn between either painting or skiing, wishing for more hours of daylight to get them both in. Even when I’m not at the easel, my mind inevitably wanders to painting as I ski on the picturesque trails. As I was gliding through beautiful landscapes and planning my next set of snow paintings last week, I thought about the parallels between skiing and painting. Here are some lessons learned from the ski trails that can be applied to painting:

1. Learn from a pro:

My husband and I first attempted skate skiing when we moved to Alaska. Determined to learn on our own, we headed out to the trails and strapped on our skis….only to spend the entire day with frustrating (and often comical) results. A weekend ski clinic did wonders as we were taught the basics by an expert who truly understood all the elements of good technique.

As with skiing, you can save yourself a lot of time and effort in art by finding a good instructor who can walk you through the basics of painting, taking some of the mystery out of the craft. Yes, an artist can be self-taught, but most times the process takes a lot longer and good input from competent professionals will speed you on your way to making your own art without stumbling over technical problems at the beginning.

“Winter’s Release”
by Kathleen Dunphy
24″ x 18″

2. Don’t expect to be good if you don’t do it a lot:

The long Alaskan winters allowed me lots of time to ski. Here in the radically shorter winters of California, I’m skiing a fraction of the amount that I used to. Consequently, I can’t expect to win any races or to see great improvement in my technique.

As with skiing, don’t expect to get better at painting if you don’t work at it on a consistent basis. Practice really does make perfect, and getting into the habit of painting nearly every day will help you to see gains more quickly.

3. Those who make it look easy have put in their time

Every now and then when I’m out plein air painting, a passer-by will comment, “You make it look so easy!” (I always have to resist the impulse to reply, “Well I certainly fooled you, didn’t I?”) As I’ve said many times before, I don’t think painting is easy; I think painting is really hard, but aspects of it have gotten easier over years of repetition and practice. I’ve been guilty of watching elite skiers fly past me and feeling a pang of jealousy at the apparent ease with which they ski, but I know that they’ve put in countless hours of practice to get that good.

Painting takes enormous patience and perseverance and nothing happens overnight. It helps to realize that, just like an athlete, you have to been in for the long haul in order to develop your skills and gain competency

4. It’s not the falling down, it’s the getting up that matters

Let’s face it: no matter how good we get, at some point every skier falls and every painter fails. The old skiing adage, “if you’re not falling down, you’re not learning anything,” applies to painting as well. In order to grow, we have to push ourselves to do things that that are risky and learn from our mistakes. I could just ski the flat trails or paint easy subject matter, but where would that get me? I’d be a mediocre skier and a ho-hum painter.

Although there have been many times of frustration when I’ve wanted to unhook my skis and storm off the trails or chuck my painting into the woods and head home, I’ve learned that I have to channel that negative energy into something positive in order to grow. Much like an athlete analyzes videos of his/her performance to look for ways to improve, take those paintings that didn’t hit the mark back to the studio and give them a detailed critique to learn from your errors. Remember that it’s never a failure if you’ve had a brush in your hand and have been painting with full concentration and intent. If you try, you either succeed or you learn. Challenging yourself to the literal hills of skiing and the metaphorical hills of art will force you to conquer new techniques and overcome fears, making you better at your craft overall.

5. Fear will get you nowhere, but overconfidence will make you fall on your face

We’ve all seen the skier stuck at the top of a hill, frozen with fear of the downslope ahead. Staring at a blank canvas can elicit that same kind of paralysis. The worry of making a mistake can be overwhelming, but you’ve got to start somewhere. Take a deep breath and make that first mark. Remember that errors can always be corrected and that the only thing worse than bringing home a bad painting is not doing a painting at all. But don’t get so overconfident that you’re like that skier who flies down the mountain without a care in the world, only to do an “Agony of Defeat” crash into the snow. Be sure to carefully think out your approach to the painting.

Anyone who has ever taken one of my workshops knows that I’m fanatical about thumbnails: they are the roadmap to the painting that makes everything else easier. Just a few minutes of sketches and planning can save you from falling flat on your face.

6. No matter what happens, it’s a great day out there

No matter how many times I’ve fallen or how lousy my painting turns out, at the end of a day outside I always take a moment to look around and be grateful for the opportunity to spend some time outdoors. A day in nature is a gift not to be taken for granted. A positive attitude goes a long way in all endeavors, especially painting, so take the time to be thankful for what you have already accomplished and to think of productive and positive ways to improve yourself.

Click here for tips on painting snow in my blog post, “Snow Day”

Keep It Simple! Using a Limited Palette

Kathleen Dunphy OPA · Sep 10, 2012 · 26 Comments

"Garapatta Spring" by Kathleen Dunphy OPA 24x18 — “Garapatta Spring” by Kathleen Dunphy OPA 24×18

When I first started painting, I’d walk into art supply stores and spend hours looking at all the different pigments and brands of oil paints available, and drool over all those luscious colors: aureolin yellow, cinnabar green, quinocradone rose (just the names alone made me buy them). I’d load up my basket with dozens of tubes of paint and head home thinking that at last I had found the color that would make me a better painter. Age and experience are wonderful teachers, and I finally came to the conclusion that no special pigment would be the key to my success. In fact, the more choices I had on my palette, the gaudier and less-realistic my paintings looked.
In 2003, I had the good fortune to study with Scott Christensen, who at the time was using a very limited palette that he had his students use in his workshops. At first, I was baffled: how could I get a true yellow ochre using only 3 primaries and a couple of grays? How could I get a wide variety of greens when there were no green tube pigments on my palette? But after sticking with this limited palette for a while and experimenting with these colors, I came to see that I could mix just about every color in nature using only 6 tubes of paint. Using this palette also helped me to see and understand color temperature better by simplifying my choices: if the color needed to be warmer, I added yellow; for cooler, I added blue. And I found that the colors I was mixing were so much closer to the reality I was seeing than when I used a broader palette. When there are 20 choices on the palette, I find it’s much easier to just say “oh, that’s close enough” and dip into a color straight out of the tube , but when I have to mix my colors from the primaries, I get a more accurate representation of my subject matter. Of course, there are certain local colors that I can’t duplicate exactly with this palette, especially if I’m painting man-made objects. But I can always get the correct value and the correct temperature, and when those are right, the color reads correctly.

"Tahoe Bliss" by Kathleen Dunphy OPA — “Tahoe Bliss” by Kathleen Dunphy OPA

For example, the color of the water at Lake Tahoe is an incredibly intense blue-green. I may not be able to get that exact local color, but I can mix the right temperature and value, then surround that color with more muted grays and the color of the water will feel more intense and believable.
Over time, I experimented with adding and subtracting pigments from my palette and settled on the selection of paints that I’ve been using since about 2005. This is the palette that I use for all of my paintings, both plein air and in the studio:
Titanium White (any brand)
Cadmium Yellow Lemon (Utrecht)
Permanent Red Medium (Rembrandt)
Ultramarine Blue (any brand)
Naples Yellow Deep (Rembrandt)
Cold Gray (Rembrandt)
(Please note that the brands of the paints are very important as colors vary widely between manufacturers)

Although I use a limited palette for my paintings, I always start out by mixing puddles of several colors before I start the actual painting. Doing this accomplishes two things: it helps me to slow down and analyze the color before I dive headlong into painting, and it allows me to have an expanded choice of colors when I begin to paint. I always mix the secondary colors (orange, green, and violet) regardless of what I’m painting, and the rest of the puddles of color are close approximations to what I’m seeing in the subject matter. Pre-mixing takes some time at the beginning of the painting, but it really saves time once I start to paint: I already have so many colors figured out and can concentrate on the subtle shifts in temperature and value that I’m seeing. Also, I don’t break the rhythm of painting to drop my brush, get out my palette knife and mix new color.
Here’s a shot of my palette before I start a painting:

And here’s the finished painting from that palette:

"The Italian Store" by Kathleen Dunphy OPA 12x12 — “The Italian Store” by Kathleen Dunphy OPA 12×12

There are certainly countless artists out there who use extensive palettes and get beautiful results, and my selection of pigments is just one way to approach painting. But if you have never used a limited palette, give this a try- you might be surprised with the results and be able to bypass all those rows of paint next time you’re in the art store.

Why I Paint En Plein Air

Kathleen Dunphy OPA · Apr 2, 2012 · 7 Comments

The thermometer in the car topped out at 104 degrees on the way home. I walked in the door after a frustrating morning out in the field feeling spent and exhausted. I had set the alarm for 4 a.m. so that I could get up and get out to my plein air destination right as the sun came up on this summer morning. But ignoring all my plans, Nature took her own course and decided to cast a few stray clouds on the horizon, just enough to obscure the sun and completely change the look of the scene I set out to paint. I tried to be patient and wait it out, but by the time the clouds passed, the sun’s angle was too high for the effect I wanted to paint. And after that it was just too dang hot to stay outside any longer. Argh. It’s times like this that I can’t help but think about the comfort of the studio and the quick snapshot I took of the scene when I drove past it last time I was in the area. And the question that so many people ask me: Why plein air? Why not stay in the studio and use those great photos you took? Why haul all your gear out there and stand in the heat/cold/wind/bugs just to do a little painting you could whip out in your climate-controlled studio in no time?
The answer is simple: no painting done from a photo can ever compare to the energy, immediacy, and sense of place that can come through in a plein air piece. Somehow the feel of the day, be it heat or cold or wind or just a perfectly pleasant morning, makes its way down the arm and off the brush and onto the canvas. I wish I knew how it happens so I could fake that quality in the studio, but that’s the magic of plein air. Our experience comes out on the canvas. All our senses help to create the painting, not just our vision. We hear the cows lowing, we feel the breeze, we smell the hay…..it’s all there on the canvas. Even my worst plein air pieces have some small element of that particular day in them. I feel like I’m recording a moment in history: it will never be July 28, 2011 at 6:00 in the morning ever again in the history of the world, but now I have a little bit of it on canvas. How exciting is that?
Not all of my paintings are completed on location, and I paint many larger works entirely in the studio. But every piece I paint has its genesis in plein air studies. Working solely from photos leaves my paintings looking flat and unexciting. I use my reference photos to jog my memory or to help me come up with better designs that I may have overlooked when I was on location. But I can’t tell you how many times I’ve discarded a studio painting because I didn’t have enough plein air information on the scene to make the painting look convincing and alive. All the answers are outside, and even the most frustrating day of plein airing brings a more acute awareness of the subtleties of painting from life. Those skills honed outside make the studio work that much easier and fun.

Kathleen Dunphy OPA

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