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We spent a lot of painting time
along the cliffs outside San Juan. |
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Painting can be a pretty isolating affair, and though I love the alone time
spent with my muse, I miss the collective energy that working in a
group of like-minded colleagues provides. I also want to get better at
painting, and though I'm certainly evolving as an artist, that learning process
is a pretty steep climb and going it alone can be murder. Then it dawned on me
that going it alone is a choice--and frankly not the best one for me right now.
We learn better with others around us because
we feel safe--and if we feel safe we're likely to take risks. True learning requires that we let go of
perfection---we must stretch our boundaries, leave our comfort zone, allow
ourselves to experiment, and even make mistakes. I don't know about you, but I prefer to have some
trusted friends, and a dedicated mentor, nearby once I summon the courage to
cross the threshold into the unknown and untried.
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The courtyards of the inn kept us
fully immersed in nature.
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The opportunity to take such a leap presented itself to me a few
months ago when I received an invite from Teresa Spinner to attend a plein air painting workshop
she was putting together with Judith Carducci. Spinner is a portrait artist and owner of Signilar Art Video, which has
been producing high quality instructional videos of today's master artists
since 1989. Carducci is likewise a respected portraitist and a seasoned
instructor.
The workshop was to be held
in Old San Juan, Puerto Rico, at the Gallery Inn--which is owned and operated by
Jan D'Esopo--Spinner's sister. D'Esopo, an
accomplished watercolorist and sculptor, has lived on the property for close to
fifty years. Though the house was little
more than a royal wreck when she first acquired it, D'Esopo had the vision to transform
it, and subsequent adjacent properties, into a magical kingdom replete with
planted grottoes, shimmering fountains, and fancy dress dining halls. Now a rustic Spanish castle filled with fine
art and period furnishings, it rises majestically atop a high bluff overlooking
the fortifications of Old San Juan and the endless sea beyond. Without question the perfect setting for a
painting party.
And indeed it was. Spinner
and Carducci scouted out landscape sites in advance--though I would have been
perfectly content to paint the Inn and its lush courtyards. Old San Juan is a treasure trove of the
picturesque--breathtaking natural vistas and compelling architectural forms were
to be had at every corner. Our days commenced at dawn as we rushed to the breakers
to paint the sun as it crept up over the horizon and bathed the bluffs and
forts in a surreal and heavenly light. Group critiques were held over a
mid-morning breakfast--freshly prepared omelets and café-con-leche eased the embarrassment
of displaying and talking about our still-wet paintings, which never seemed
quite up to our hopes and expectations.
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Night painting in and around Old San Juan was an atmospheric,
moody, and all around exhilarating experience. |
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We set out again in the afternoon to find the perfect spot
that begged to be painted. Open air
painting in the tropics is a challenge--squalls are a constant--but then
again so are the rainbows. Coming back indoors in the late afternoon, we
painted each other, the hotel staff, and for that matter anything that stood
still. Carducci was an ever-present and energetic cheerleader, making the
rounds to the workshop participants and ever ready to share her encyclopedic
grasp of picture making. Demoing throughout the five-day workshop, Carducci's light-filled landscape paintings were an
inspiration; and her nocturnes magical in their economy of line, compositional
force, and striking play of color.
In three days I became unrecognizable to
myself--transformed into something and someone else. "I" the artist, meaning "I" in the sense of
the almighty "I", slipped away and in its stead I became an earnest seeker
among fellow earnest seekers striving to channel the sights, sounds and smells
of life in Old San Juan into sensitive and spirited works of art. I like to think that we succeeded.
If you'd like to see if you might have the same kind of transformational experience in a workshop, be sure to watch out for the March/April issue of American Artist. It is our 75th anniversary issue and comes with our annual workshop and art school directory.
--Michael
Michael Gormley is the editorial director of American Artist magazine.