Painting Snow, then and now....

...my mother was my biggest fan as I was learning to paint, I am grateful

not only for her support and encouragement but for the fact

that she kept a few of those early pieces around...

So in tribute to those who were our earliest "enablers" I want to share this experiment I did recently.

This piece is dated 1962 and bears my signature.  I am guessing it is painted in "casein" paint as artists were not commonly using acrylic until a few years later.  I was 10 years old and in Ms Barbara Bassett's art class for children.  We painted from postcards, calendars and the National Geographic Magazine.  I was in awe of her and all that she could teach me.  I also had never seen snow before.

My Mamma was tickled with this piece and paid to have it framed.  The "provenance" of the art is written on the back in Mom's handwritting: loaned to Grandmother Manley, 1966-68; and loaned to Grandmother Horton, 1969-70.  

Somehow I could not part with this piece of my childhood and although I did not have the original scene it was painted from I decided to try painting it again.  This time I would start in acrylic and finish in oils.  And this time, 50 years later, I have seen snow...many times!

I decided to stick with the original composition as I had no other guidelines.  And while today I might not choose to paint a huge tree standing in the middle of a field all alone, I guessed there was something that appealed to me about it as a mere gal of ten.

I know as a child, and even today all grown up, I wondered what was in those barns shut tight against the snow.  There is nary a hint (other than a silo) as to what the farmer and his family produced.

I tried an even smaller version of this scene hoping I could loosen up a bit.  But stark red barns against cold white snow stay pretty harsh in contrast even with an artist's eye, especially in 8x10.  

So it's pretty much as it was...late afternoon sun on a cold field of snow, proud red barns under the guardianship of an old leafless tree.  Kinda makes me want a cup of hot chocolate!

Second Verse, Same as the First,
Cindy

Let It Snow!!

I am hoping your holidays were lovely!  I always think of the week between December 25 and New Year's as a bonus week; not quite the old year (everything completed for 2014) and a hiatus before starting a new one.  I like to review, re-live, evaluate and imagine new projects or adventures.  It's a quiet time for cocooning,  nesting, or whatever you like to do when your engines are idle and you want to recuperate, refuel and recharge.

So let it snow! ...figuratively or literally. We are hunkered down before a fire reading and sipping and making notes while listening to music.  My husband thinks he loves snow but as his blood gets thinner what he really loves is the idea of snow.  It forces him to slow down, move with care, play a little and enjoy a hot drink.

Along those lines, look what I came across while re-organizing:

I painted this landscape in 1964....exactly 50 years ago.  I believe it is painted in what they called casein paint which predates acrylic.  It was probably from a postcard my art teacher, Barbara Bassett, had as reference.  I was 11 years old and while I may have seen a mountain on vacation once or twice, I know for a fact that I had never seen, touched, tasted or walked in snow.  I wonder why either of us would suggest I paint such a thing?  These days I believe that the more engaged one is with the subject at hand the more authentic the rendering will be.  JMO (just my opinion as they say.)

Fast forward to another snow painting, this time rendered in pastel and now from the vantage of having experienced snow many times.  I loved this afternoon, we went out driving to see how the country side looked in its chilly, white coat and I wandered across this bridge with the sun at my back.  I took many photos of the light sparkling on the river filled with chunks of ice and it wasn't until I downloaded the pics that I noticed my shadow in the water.  This was equally fun to paint but I definitely had a sense of what I was trying to capture.

There was a huge gap in my childhood painting and when I resumed the craft many years later.  But there are  lessons from those early years that come back to me even now.  I was fortunate to have had those classes for they taught me to see.  Maybe painting snow made me want to see it, to travel, to experience things I saw on postcards?  Who knows?  But those lessons did introduce me to a lifetime of pleasurable pursuit.

Thanks Mom and Dad, and thank you Barbara Bassett!

Happy New Adventures,

Cindy

VIEW FROM THE BRIDGE

PURCHASE HERE
This pastel started with a photograph taken late in the afternoon...it was one of those "stop the car" moments when I knew the sun was making gorgeous shadows on the snow and in the river.  Lucky for me I have a patient husband who took a nap while I snapped many photos of the area.  Back in the studio I became interested in the shadows cast by the bridge itself....can you spot yours truely?  Actually this could be any viewer putting himself right into the painting.  Can't you just smell the cold air?  Anyway, this is  8 x 8 on yellow-gold paper and is in a square, white mat sized 14 x 14.  It was on its way to a gallery in NC but missed the size of the box by a mere 2"....thus I get to enjoy it here at home a bit longer...or sell it!

Blast from the Past

My recent paintings of snow reminded my mother of one I did when I was 11 years old...and here it is!  In 1964 I had not even seen snow so why I chose to paint this scene is beyond me...and it must have been from a postcard because I feel certain those are not the Smokey Mountains in the background.  This is a large painting, about 18" high by almost 24" wide and was done before acrylic was even invented, I think we called this paint "casin."  For fun I decided to replicate it in pastel and, painting only from the original piece, here is what I came up with:

This rendition is only 5" x 7" and is done in pastel on paper.  You can see that I took some liberties with the composition, adding and subtracting a few things.  And today, a bazillion years later, I have seen snow and the Rocky Mountains.  But honestly, I'm not sure that my re-do is all that different in style and technique!  Perhaps I will date and sign this one and, in a few years, revisit it once again...might be interesting to observe the progress as time moves on.  In fact, I already see a few things I need to change (the camera does that) so I'll make some notes and, if we're all still here, send it out again in 10 years!!

p.s. Kudos to my then art teacher, Barbara Bassett, who made me so proud when I finished a piece...she instilled in me a love for creating that exists even today.  Wonder if I can find her on Facebook!?!!

A Road Not Travelled

A road not travelled is always an

intrigue to me and this one in the snow carried an extra air of mystery because everything

was so, so quiet in the early morning as the sun came up.  I like paintings that take

you somewhere, even when I am not certain exactly where it is going...I like to imagine what might be around the curve, what might surprise me or comfort me.  Rounding the curve in this painting is like the sun coming up: it is a blank slate and a new beginning.  This is a 6 x 9 pastel on paper but it is matted in white to fit a standard  9 x 12 frame of your choice.  Yes, I'm still painting snow...more to come! 

Buy Now

A Quiet Flow

                             BUY NOW

In winter the Watauga River in NC slows down and ceases to offer the summer sounds of noisy birds and water tumbling over the rocks.  Under a fresh blanket of snow it all looks like a different world than the one to which I am accustomed.  Snow is fascinating to paint and I think I am ready to do several more.
A Quiet Flow, pastel, measures only 5" x 7" but is surrounded by a creamy mat that is ready for your standard 8" x 10" frame.  Click on "buy now" or contact inquiry@cindymichaud.com if interested.

DownTime

This photo sums up my current pre-occupation: creative downtime!
Call it hibernation, meditation, contemplation or introspection...there comes a time to create and a time to vegetate.  I am in the latter.
Snowed in, time slows to a seductive crawl, the world looks, sounds and smells different.  Under the whitest of conditions there is no way to look forward, one either reviews the past or is fully in the present.  Mulling is not just for cider, it is for the brain and the body and these last several days I have made it a major task.  Rise and rest.  Lounge in that mental state which is not quite asleep and not fully awake...drift, soar, imagine but stay still.  Smell, feel, taste but record nothing.  In a day or two my body and brain will tire of this retreat into nothingness but for the moment it is a filled prescription.  I will absorb it now as the fire will soon be stoked to a full roar and then, then there will not be enough light in the day nor air in the room to accomplish all that will want to be done!  Soon enough.