Watercolor in Provence

Travel is densely filled with new experience. Finding time to process visual information and to record ideas can be a challenge, especially during a short stay. Neverthless, I took a few mornings at the end of our two week winter trip to Nice, France to internalize and synthesize views of the surroundings in some quick watercolor studies. Working in a small sketchbook is liberating. Using a limited palette in a short amount of time results in images very unlike my more sustained oil paintings, and it’s often difficult for me to recognize this work as having been done by my hand. I think of these shorthand notes about color and place as gifts that the experience has allowed. These are a few of my favorites.

NIna Jerome, Provence Watercolor Study 1, 7x5, 2023

Nina Jerome, Province Watercolor Study 3, 5x7, 2023

Nina Jerome, Provence Watercolor Study 2, 7x5, 2023

Catching Up

It’s been a while since I wrote, and I need to catch up. A year ago I was preparing work for a solo show at Elizabeth Moss Gallery, titled “The Nature of Water”, paintings inspired by a residency in Iceland. I was thrilled to present my series about Icelandic water movement after having been delayed by the pandemic. Concurrently I was preparing for my first show at Cynthia Winings Gallery, in Blue Hill, “Quarry Rain”, achromatic paintings representing water surface and atmosphere in the Addison quarry. Both series express my interest in capturing moments in which water interacts with light as it moves through the landscape.

Skogafoss Mist, 11x14, gouache on yupo, 2018

Quarry Rain 6, 26x20, oil on yupo, 2022

In preparing each of these series for exhibit, I experimented with adhering works on paper to panel so that they could be varnished and shown without glass, a process that enhanced the presentation and which I will use again.

Cascade Fragment 3, 16x12, gouache on paper on panel, 2022

In June I was evicted from my studio of twenty-three years due to a building sale to new owners with dreams of luxury apartments. This was totally disruptive to my work, requiring finding a new space and moving decades of painting inventory to a new site. I ended up in a small studio a few blocks away, and after many chaotic months, continued my practice, albeit, in closer quarters.

The silver lining to sorting and moving, was that I was prepared when St. Joseph Hospital in Bangor expressed an interest in showing a large body of my work in one of their medical, administrative wings of the hospital, where it will reside for a year. It has been lovely to have forty years of work on view for members of the community and staff to see during their medical visits or daily movement through those corridors.

Nina Jerome painting exhibit, Cam Wing, St.Joseph Hospital, Bangor Maine. (Pictured: “State Street”, “Winter Power 11, Twilight”, “Borestone Summer”).


My work with “Quarry Reflections” and Maine landscape continues and I will post about this soon as I prepare for future exhibits.

Quarry Reflections

I began painting the Black Diamond Quarry in Addison, Maine in 2019 after wandering in the woods around the space for several years. Three small pits were abandoned in 1932, with giant black granite blocks strewn around the perimeter. The visual qualities of the space are numerous and constantly shifting - steep granite faces where shadows shift throughout the day, overhanging trees that reflect in the surface of the water, the color and forms of the sky above, also seen in the water, and the curved shape of the pit that interacts with all of the above. (See more images on my portfolio page.)

Quarry Reflections 26, 30x30, oil on canvas, 2021


I photograph, draw, make small painting studies, and develop larger oil paintings. I enjoy every step in the process, and often value my sketches and painting studies as much as the more sustained work. Last year I visited the quarry during a passing, gentle rain, and observed as the quiet surface of the water filled with circular pulsing movement, disturbing the reflected trees. This led to an offshoot of the series, “Quarry Rain”, exhibited at Cynthia Winings Gallery in Blue Hill, Maine in 2022.

Quarry Rain 5, 30x22, oil on paper on panel, 2021

Upcoming Exhibitions - 2019


Nina and Entangled 6, photo credit, James Sutcliffe

I am very excited to share news about my upcoming exhibitions. The work to be shown includes current landscape drawings and paintings, titled Entangled, as well as past paintings of Maine spaces, and aerial landscape. If you're in the area during the run of any of these shows, I hope that you'll check them out. 

Solo Exhibitions

September 13 – December 21, 2019

Entangled, University of Maine Museum of Art, 40 Harlow Street, Bangor, ME

Tuesday – Saturday, 10:00 – 5:00

The wild movement and circular structure of invasive Wild Grape, and the way it seemed to dance on the edge between beauty and chaos, caught my attention while I was a fellow at the Virginia Center for the Creative Arts in Amherst, Virginia. As the series continued the vines took on added significance, relating to complexity that permeates other aspects of our lives.

Dance, 12x24, oil on canvas

October 11 – November 9, 2019

Entangled Space,
Elizabeth Moss Gallery, 251 U.S. Route 1, Falmouth, ME
207.781.2620

This exhibit includes an additional selection of the Entangled series.

Entangled 1, 40x30, oil on canvas

August 1 – October 31, 2019

Nina Jerome Maine Landscape Paintings,
St. Joseph Hospital Internal Medicine, 900 Broadway, Bangor ME
Monday – Friday, 8:00 – 4:30

Includes a selection of Maine paintings from Addison, Great Cranberry, and Great Spruce Head Islands on canvas and paper.

Penobscot Bay from Great Spruce Head Island, 12x24, oil on canvas

South Meadow Milkweed, 11x14, gouache on paper

Group Exhibitions

September 19, 4:00 – 7:00, 2019

Seasons of Maine,
Deighan Wealth Advisors, 455 Harlow Street, Bangor ME

This invitational group exhibit that continues to hang through September and early October includes a selection from the Land Marks series, aerial views of urban landscape. 

Land Marks focuses on the land as seen from above. Our developed environment reflects our ideas, priorities, activities, and patterns of living, and, nowhere is that more apparent than from the air. In painting, I document the structure of a specific place, and record my awareness of how we have designed our spaces and shifted the quality of the land away from its original natural state.

Hudson River Passage, 24x18, oil on linen

Manhattan Light, 12x12, oil on linen

October 4 – November 17

Framing Maine: Artist’s Perspectives on Place,

University of Maine, Lord Hall Gallery, University of Maine, Orono ME, Monday - Friday 9:00 - 4:00.

This invitational show includes the work of a variety of Maine landscape artists.

Patterns of Virginia Spring

Virginia has a long, unwinding, layered spring, which I observed for the month of April as a fellow at VCCA in Amherst.  I was interested in working with multiples of new vine structures. Before foliage grew, the twisted vines were exposed, providing screens to the landscape beyond. I walked, photographed, drew, and selected compositions for paintings. I was thinking about sequence, opposition, complement, continuity as the images developed.


Honeysuckle Screen, 11x14, gouache



Vine studies, 9x9, charcoal


Drawing studies, many done with non-dominant hand, charcoal



 
Grid of Spring Vines, 24x36, acrylic on panel

VCCA Visual Artists Studio


Morning Light on Spring Vines, acrylic on panel, 16x16


Morning Light on Spring Vines 3, acrylic on panel, 16x16

Morning Light on Spring Vines 2, 16x16, acrylic on panel



Morning Light on Spring Vines 4, 30x24, oil on linen


When the foliage emergedt, I walked through the woods and bathed in the light and color of fresh spring. As always, I am grateful to the Virginia Center for the Creative Arts for providing me with space, time, and support to do this work. 



Woods Walk, each 12x12, acrylic on panel


Translating Drawings

I love the process of making marks freely, moving my arm, tapping, brushing, or marking the surface with graphite, charcoal, or ink until an image appears. When I look down at my paper and see a form that approximates my observation or imagination, I feel satisfied. For me, it is one of life's great pleasures.

Recently, I have been developing more complex works from previously constructed drawings. It allows me to invent, suggest, or simplify more easily than if I am working from observation or from a photograph of the subject. I've been thinking a lot about the translation of drawings into related work. 




Study for Grid, 30x30, mixed media on paper, 2019
Based on bottom right square of graphite study


Entangled Grid Study, 18x18, water soluble graphite on yupo, 2018
Most of my work begins with gesture drawings that identify the essence of structure and idea. That visual map guides me through the process of developing a more complex painting or more sustained drawing. It helps me to decide which areas to emphasize and which parts to omit. It suggests value contrasts and nuances that might be established with color relationships.


Original 12x9 sketch on which drawing and painting were based


"Propped up and Entangled", mixed media on paper, 44x30



Studio view of drawing and painting


Entangled Spring, 54x42, oil on canvas


During the translation there are many considerations. How does a dry, grainy charcoal line influence the making of a liquid paint stroke? How can an erased smudge be represented with a brush? How does the expression of a monochromatic palette shift when color is added? Each of these decisions is intuitive. Rational thought must be suspended, allowing visual response to guide the process. 

Each work has its own language, and one does not offer a blueprint for the other. Although they influence each other when developed simultaneously, each is a completely distinct and independent work with contrasting expressions. 

Drawing detail, mixed media on paper

Corresponding detail, oil on linen

Drawing detail, mixed media on paper



Corresponding detail, oil on linen







Marking the Process

Work continues in the studio as I develop variations of entangled vines and thickets. I have completed several grid experiments in both graphite and mixed media, which will serve as prototypes for larger work.

Entangled Grid 2, mixed media, 24x24
Preliminary design (left) and mixed media work (right) developed from it.

Entangled Grid 3, 36x36, mixed media on panel



Entangled Grid #1, graphite on yupo, 20x20


Below are three small panels painted for a local exhibit. All Small will hang at the Rock and Art Gallery in Bangor during November and December. 

#1, 6x6, acrylic on panel


#2, 6x6, acrylic on panel

#3, 6x6, acrylic on panel



I have been searching for many strategies for making work in this series. In drawings below, previously completed preliminary sketches have become the first layer for more developed work that I transform by adding layers of transparent marks to the original drawing. 

Mixed media on paper, 11x14


Developed drawing from sketch, mixed media, 11x14


In developing the tangled landscapes of the southern woods, I have found strong contrasts with thickets of our northern forests, and look for ways to play one against the other. 

North, oil on paper, 22x22


South, 30x30, mixed media on paper









Vines squared

Drawings of the Virginia wild grape have been ongoing for over a year. Considering the gestures and finished drawings help me to determine the direction of this series. Simplifying ideas, eliminating possibilities, trying new variations, and making decisions are all part of the process for moving forward. Drawings are graphite, charcoal, and mixed media.





























Icelandic Variations - Ideas in Progress

During the summer I reviewed the twelve waterfall paintings that I completed while in Iceland, working to develop ideas for larger paintings, selecting favorite compositions, and playing my favorite game of "variation".  The first painting shown, acrylic on paper, was derived from several Seljalandfoss studies. This waterfall, the first I saw while traveling, made a strong impact because of it's scale, movement, and accessibility. One can walk up close and behind this waterfall, experiencing its power through the roar of the water and the mist that it produces.


Seljalandfoss, Yellow, 24x30, acrylic on paper



Seljalandfoss #5, gouache on yupo, 11x14

I experimented with how this small image would translate into larger gouache paintings on both yupo and paper. The paper absorbs the paint differently than the slick surface of yupo, giving subtle changes to the color and surface of the picture. 

Waterfall study, gouache on yupo, 20x26


Waterfall study, gouache on Rives BFK, 20x26



After painting the above images, I identified cropped sections that might provide dynamic compositions for larger paintings on canvas. 

detail


Painting these fragments allowed me to emphasize the marks and movement. 

gouache on paper, 14x11

gouache on paper, 9x12



These small Iceland studies became the subject of a larger, more abstract variation of Skogafoss waterfall.

Skogafoss, gouache on yupo, 9x12


Skogafoss 2, 14x11



Skogafoss, gouache on yupo, 20x26




Other variations included a few collage studies done from torn gouache paintings.

Lava and Ice 1, 11x14, gouache on paper


Lava and Ice 2, 11x14, gouache on paper


This series, as well as other long-term projects involving movement in the landscape are ongoing.When I return to the studio in the fall, work on canvas will begin. 




Iceland Residency - Big, Wet Landscape



Skogafoss, gouache on yupo, 11x14


During the month of June I lived in an apartment above Hafnarborg, a small museum in Hafnarfjordur, Iceland. Aside from the persistent clouds and rain, it was glorious to spend time in this country of powerful, evocative, and varied land. Two short trips, first to the south coast, and then to the Snaefellsness Peninsula, provided stunning drives and hikes. Sifting my interests from all the images that I had collected was an ongoing process of looking, sketching, drawing, and painting.  Everywhere I saw tall rock cliffs with fragments cascading below, solid, angular mountains surrounded by a jumble of moss-covered lava, and rock ledges with water pouring from their heights. Iceland is a land with brooding structures that seem to be in constant flux. Sketches helped me to identify my interest in the solid vs. fluid and whole vs. fragment.


Hafnarborg, Hafnarfjordur


Hafnarborg studio


I could not have been more surprised by my attraction to waterfalls. I began sketching, then painting variations, ten in all. It was a way to represent the movement that I was seeing all around me, and to express the relentless rain that made them full and omnipresent.



Skogafoss 2, gouache on yupo, 14x11




Oxnarfoss, charcoal, 11x14


Oxnarfoss, gouache on yupo, 11x14




Charcoal on paper, 8x10



Seljalandfoss 4, acrylic on canvas, 24x28




Charcoal on paper, 11x14



Gouache on paper, 11x14


Pingvallavatn, Gouache on paper, 11x14



Charcoal on paper, 11x14




















Square Tangles - New Directions with Invasive Vines.


Entangled Dance, 16x32, oil on canvas, 2018


It's a gift to find a subject that allows for play, and encourages variation and expansion. These vines  seem to be one of those discoveries. The square format has resulted in new compositions, and various ways of making marks to represent the movement and complexity of this form. 



Entangled Composition 7, 24x24, mixed media on yupo, 2018



Diptych, 12x24, oil on canvas, 2018



Entangled Spring, 40x40, oil on linen, 2018



Tangle Improvisation 1, 24x24, mixed media on tyvec, 2018



Tangle Improvisation 2, 24x24, mixed media on paper, 2018




Variations on Tangled Trees


Entangled 3, 60x48, oil on canvas, 2018

Winter brings concentrated studio time. I like these days spent out of the cold in my studio where painting from observation shifts to painting from drawings and photographs, removed from the source, and responding to the painting itself as it progresses. My interest in Virginia's invasive vines has led to experimentation with drawing, using a variety of materials. 

Tangle study, mixed media on yupo, 2017


I'm enjoying working on large canvases (60"x48") and the freedom of paint application that it allows. I've just completed the eighth painting of the this series. The first five were done from more objective observation while I was in Virginia last spring, while these three large paintings focus on movement and variation. 

Entangled 1, 58x46, oil on canvas, 2017


Study for Entangled 2, graphite on paper, 2017


Entangled 2, 60x48, oil on canvas, 2018


I require more preliminary drawings for a large canvas to help determine my direction. The drawings aid the decision making process as I search for composition in the painting. While I do not often use the drawing directly or exactly, making them before I begin to paint prepares me for placement of the subject, mark making, and development of form, as if I have uploaded a map of the potential process. 


Tangle Study, mixed media on yupo, 2017

Tangle Study, mixed media on yupo, 2017

Tangle Study, mixed media on yupo, 2017

Tangled Trees, Study, graphite on paper, 2017

Details of the large paintings emphasize the movement over the subject and context. That may be my next direction. 

Detail, Entangled 2

Detail, Entangled 3



Virginia Vines

After a season of painting Maine landscape, I've returned to the studio to continue work that I began in April at the Virginia Center for Creative Arts, an artists' residency in Amherst, Virginia. Living in a location with a long, sustained spring gave me time to explore a landscape infused with a yellow-green palette, and entwined with tangles of vines.

Studio view - VCCA

I worked outside searching for images that I could not find at home, and found roads and fields lined with wild grape, honeysuckle, and kudzu. I worked with charcoal on yupo and paper, water soluble graphite, and conte crayon taped to a long stick, experiencing different ways to mark the surface with the movement of this landscape.

Wild Grape, charcoal on yupo


Honeysuckle, charcoal on yupo


Honeysuckle, charcoal on yupo

Honeysuckle, charcoal on paper

Honeysuckle, charcoal on paper


Wild Grape Studies, Option 1 and 2, water soluble graphite


The drawings led to paintings which have continued this fall with larger canvases. 


Studio view, work in progress in April  - VCCA, oil, 40x30


While at the residency I had planned to work on drawings of aerial landscape from previously taken photographs. When I hung the drawings of both the vines and the highways on the wall, I discovered the connection between them, their tangled structures, invasive qualities, and chaotic layers. The unchecked growth of both the vines and urban spaces connected these landscapes in ways I had not appreciated before. Whereas my aerial landscape had previously concentrated on specific places like Newark Airport and Boston Harbor, the new aerial studies were more generalized, and focused on marks made on the land by human civilization; a kind of monumental drawing across the earth’s surface.




Invasive sketch, 10x20, charcoal, 2017


Suburban Continuum #3, charcoal, 30x22, 2017

Suburban Continuum, charcoal, 30x90, 2017

Suburban Studies, gouache on paper, 14x12, 2017


Invasive Forms, 30x44, charcoal, 2017

It is with great excitement that I continue this work in my Bangor studio as I develop new large scale drawings and paintings fueled by my April experience. 


Drawing In the Woods



Charcoal, 22x30

New Works is a September session at Haystack at which previous instructors are invited to work on their own projects. It's a wonderful time of meeting other artists, observing their creative practice, and working together in studios for four days, and for a landscape artist there's the additional excitement of living in a unique coastal environment. I was surprised by my activity since I usually gravitate toward the water, rocks, and distant vistas, but here I was captivated by the surrounding woods. My first drawing of trees from the studio on the rainy afternoon I arrived seemed to set the tone for the entire experience.


First drawing, Charcoal, 9x12


The last morning as others packed up and left, I remained in the studio for a few more hours responding with sketches and more developed drawings. 


Last drawing, Charcoal, 22x18

 Study, 12"x9"



During the time between I found many variations of complex spaces as I walked and observed. 

Conte crayon, 20x29


9"x12"



The glacial erratics are a signature element of the Maine coast, and Haystack has some stellar examples scattered along the shore and throughout its woods. 


Graphite on yupo, 18x24



Graphite on yupo, 11x14



The coast there is distinctive and stunning for its large granite boulders and sandy pocket beaches. I enjoyed walking and swimming in those areas and making occasional sketches. 











But I always returned to the woods where I tried to figure out how I saw the space. Quick charcoal gesture studies helped me to internalize my subject and sometimes provided me with structure for a more developed drawing or painting. Negative space, rhythm and movement, and limited marks of essential forms were my focus during this intense four day session. 

Charcoal, 12x9


Charcoal, 9x12


Charcoal, 12x9









Summer Gouache

I've been curious about gouache for a while and decided to use it this summer to see where it would lead me. Using gouache is like drawing with liquid color and seems to suit my expressive needs. I enjoy the range of surfaces from transparent to opaque that develop from varied applications.

Driftwood Beach 2, Great Spruce Head Island, gouache on yupo, 11x14

My early experiments were small color studies from memory. I worked with different papers and a variety of brushes. Discomfort with the process eventually gave way to freedom of exploration. Eventually, I worked outside where I sometimes overworked paintings, but aspired to the same minimal approach that accompanied the memory paintings. I like gouache for its clarity of color and directness of process, and approach it as I do drawing, making marks in response to what I see, and searching for essential shapes and forms.


Memory study, East Side Road, Late Afternoon, 10x8


Memory Study, East Side Road, 3x3


Morning, Bernard Marsh, 7x9


Bernard Marsh 2, 5x7


Addison Lupine, Pleasant Bay, 7.5x9.5



Addison Meadow, Wahoa Bay,  7.5x9


August brought a visit to Great Spruce Head Island where I stayed for five days painting with friends. Hiking around to favorite spots on the island, I drew and painted on paper and yupo.

From the Porch toward Butter and Barred, gouache, 9x12



Driftwood Beach 3, gouache on yupo, 11x14



Driftwood Beach 1, gouache on yupo, 11x14



Late Morning toward Bear Island, gouache, 9x12



Foggy Beach, Great Spruce Head Island, gouache, 11x14



South Meadow, Early Evening, gouache, 9x12



Tide Pool 3, gouache on yupo, 5.5x6


Tide Pool 2, gouache on yupo, 5x6







"Let Nature Sustain"


Nina Jerome Paintings at Elizabeth Moss Gallery      June 1- July 8, 2017

   "Fish Point in Fog", 16x20, oil, 2016   

I listen to radio while I paint in the studio. I have covered my drawing table with phrases, book and song titles, authors' and composers' names, travel tips, and other items of interest. At some point during the last year I jotted down the linked phrases “let nature sustain” and George Sand. What I remember from the radio discussion is that Sand’s last words to her family were “laissez verdure”.  One translation of the phrase is “leave the green” and the other that I prefer is “let nature sustain”. I responded to this story, first, because I was so impressed by Sand's profound statement as she lay dying, and second, because the phrase seemed to relate directly to me, my work, and my interests. 


"Lagoon at Loon Point", 18x24, oil, 2016 - center

I am inspired by observation of the land, by structures of things that grow and create layers along the earth’s surface. I like intimate, distant, and aerial spaces and am interested in how humans shape their space, “leave the green”, and are inspired by their surroundings. Experiencing, observing, and responding to nature by drawing and painting renews my spirit. The act itself, the process of observing and responding, revising, and completing makes me feel like a witness to both life and the nature around me. As a result I feel more human by documenting my surroundings and sharing my responses with others through my painting and drawing.


"Backshore, Painting from Drawing #1", and "Back Shore Improvisation"

“Let Nature Sustain” is the title of my current show of paintings from Great Cranberry Island at Elizabeth Moss Gallery in Falmouth. The phrase found its way from my drawing table to my paintings as I recognized its importance to my work. I thank George Sand for the phrase and I am very grateful to the Heliker-LaHotan Foundation for the opportunity to live and work on Great Cranberry Island for the month of September. Waking up every day with the knowledge that I had an entire island at my disposal provided both geographical limits and infinite inspiration. My month-long immersion was a continual focus on plein air painting and drawing that led to many new paintings in the studio.

   
Great Cranberry Island landscapes at Elizabeth Moss Gallery


"Fish Point, Incoming Tide, ", 24x24, oil, 2016


"Bickford Afternoon", "Blowdown", and "Twilight"

"Backshore Improvisation",  "Morning Light from the Studio", "Beach at Long Point, Low Tide"


"Bickford Point Afternoon", and "Blowdown, Long Point"


"Late Afternoon, Toward Acadia", 24x24, oil, 2016


"Fish Point from the Window" and "Morning at Old Cove"

To see individual paintings, please visit gallery website https://www.elizabethmossgalleries.com/letnaturesustain













  

Painting Great Cranberry - After the fact

The powerful influence of Great Cranberry Island has continued through the fall and into the winter. Paintings develop from both drawings and photographs, coupled with the memory of that light-filled September experience. While living there, the paintings reflected my complete physical and emotional immersion in the space, and my experience of direct observation of its specific places. At home, the influence of the island has remained with me, but has been filtered through the lens of routine activity, thoughts of daily life, and current situations. The structures of the island became part of my visual landscape vocabulary and can now be translated into more personal images.

Previous posts have featured the drawings that resulted from my residency, as well as the process of creating new work from them. (http://ninajerome.blogspot.com/2016/11/drawing-from-drawing.html) I continue that work on paper interspersed with periods of painting on canvas. They inform each other.


Twilight, The Pool - September, 24x30, oil 



Evening Surge, 24x30, oil



Backshore Rift, 56x60, oil

Painting and drawing juxtaposition showing the original drawing source with the larger finished painting.



Deadman's Point, Upside Down, oil, 48x60


Blowdown, Long Point, 24x30, oil on canvas, 2017

My painting process often involves underpainting the surface of the canvas to provide a colored ground with which to interact in the first stages of the painting. It helps me to build the composition and to establish value and color contrasts. This painting is in progress and has not been completed.



Choppy Morning Ferry Crossing, stages in progress

Choppy Morning Ferry Crossing, 24x30, oil on canvas




























Drawing from Drawings

This fall I have been using drawings done on Great Cranberry Island in September as a resource for larger paintings and mixed media works on paper. This process is a shift for me since working from observation of place is my usual approach. I have enjoyed the freedom of this process, experimenting with materials (charcoal, gesso, acrylic paint) and allowing the marks to lead to new formats. There have been a variety of results, and as always, the opening of doors to new directions is the goal. I work until each piece feels a certain amount of resolution, choosing selectively from the drawings and searching for the essence of movement and structure.


Backshore Variation #1, mixed media, 26x40

Graphite on yupo, 11x14



Backshore Variation #3, mixed media, 26x40

Graphite on yupo, 11x14


Backshore Variation #4, mixed media, 26x32

Graphite on yupo, 11x14



Backshore Variation #2, mixed media, 26x36

Graphite on yupo, 11x14



Backshore Variation #5, mixed media, 26x32

Graphite on yupo, 11x14

Backshore Variation #5, detail


Rediscovering Drawing - A Conversation with the Landscape

My focus as an artist has always been painting. However, during my years of teaching in high school, middle school, and college, I developed many exercises, assigned year after year, introducing beginning classes to drawing. Personally, I drew when I was puzzling out a new subject, constructing a composition for a painting, or working outside.

That changed this year. I retired from teaching and had more time for making art, and for playing around with an idea before starting a painting. I began to appreciate my drawing as work that stands alone, and does not rely on a painting to give it value. And, after all those years of demonstrating and talking about making marks in my classroom, I have embraced those lessons myself, and transport my work easily into their language.

I wrote an earlier post about Drawing in the Desert
(/ninajerome/2016/03/drawing-in-desert.html) in which I described exploring unfamiliar landscape in Tucson, Arizona. Again, during my stay on Great Cranberry Island with the Heliker-LaHotan Foundation, drawing was a primary part of the process. I drew every day, sometimes in preparation for a painting, but often to identify my interests or to mark my presence in the environment, a kind of conversation with the landscape.

I drew from my studio - from the windows or in the immediate area.

Tree at the Pool, 11x14, charcoal

 Fog in the Cove, gouache, 5x8

Morning Fog, gouache, 8x10

I drew as an activity of recording what I saw as I walked along the shore on Long Point or at the south end of the island.

Beach at Long Point, charcoal, 9x12

Long Point, High Tide in Fog, water soluble graphite, 8x10

The View from Long Point, 9x12, charcoal

Toward Dead Man's Point, charcoal, 9x12

I drew both the land along the shoreline and the incoming tide, curious about how to capture the movement of the water as it coursed into the area of the pool and crept closer to the shore. Although there are paintings related to some, I consider the drawings to have their own identity.

Incoming Tide on Long Point, charcoal, 9x12


The work that most connected me to the drawing process were the pieces that I made on the Back Shore, a place I returned to many times to observe the chaotic jumble of rocks beside the sea. 

Back Shore 9/25, graphite on yupo, 11x14

Back Shore 9/25.2, graphite on yupo, 11x14


Back Shore 9/28, graphite on yupo, 11x14

Back Shore 9/28.2, graphite on yupo, 11x14

Each day when I returned to the studio, I hung the work completed that day. Gradually, the wall filled with drawings; drawings that I considered to stand on their own as a record of my curiosity as I explored the island. 

Studio wall in LaHotan Studio, varied materials

Studio wall, water soluble graphite on yupo