"When Lilacs...Bloomed" will be on exhibition ....

....in Maple and Main Gallery of Fine Art next week.  The current show comes down after the gallery closes on Sunday, and the new show will be up for visitors to enjoy on Wednesday when the gallery opens at its usual time of 11 o'clock.  The official opening for the new show is next Friday, a week from tonight, from 5 to 8 PM.  I hope to see you there.  Please come see me when you are there.  I look forward to visiting with you.

You may remember that I began this painting on the evening of the day in May that my sister died.  I wrote a series of blog posts about the process of creating this painting, as well as a second, larger painting on the same theme, which I have not yet completed.

"When Lilacs...Bloomed," 10x20" original acrylic on stretched canvas, copyright Joan Cole

Initially, the title of this piece was "In the Valley...."  However, in the four months that it has taken me to complete it, I have realized that--as important as that valley has been to my family for generations--my focus of this piece was less on the valley (which is the Connecticut River valley near Springfield, Massachusetts) than it is on the lilacs.  As Springfield natives, my sisters and I enjoyed the fruits (and vegetables) produced by the farms on the fertile lands bordering the river:  asparagus in the spring, apples and potatoes in the fall, and a cornucopia of other produce.  But my family treasured above all the flowers that thrived in that alluvial soil.  We are not particular  or fussy when it comes to blossoms; any will do, dandelions to daisies and on to delphiniums and beyond.  But who can resist the fragrance, colors, and textures of a bouquet of lilacs in the spring?

Spring came early in New England this year, so the lilacs began blooming in April, which is a month early for them.  My sister had been doing poorly all winter, so I took their early blossoms as a sign from my mom--who had died when the lilacs were in profusion in another May many years ago--that my sister would not be with me much longer.  This may sound lugubrious to you or attention-seeking on my part or whatever.  Actually, it is my way of processing my grief.  I am grateful that my sister is no longer suffering.  I know lilacs will bloom again.  I know that beauty will always be all around me in every season.  I do not think of this as a sad painting.  It is a memory painting, a remembrance, a tribute to my sister.

The mountain in the background is Mount Tom in Holyoke, Massachusetts, which is north of Springfield.  It is a landmark to  natives like me.  

I'd like to hear what you think of this piece, which is certainly different from my usual plein air paintings.  Whether or not you can come to Maple & Main's opening next Friday or not, I'd enjoying hearing from you.  I encourage you to leave a comment for me.

Many thanks.  ~Joan

Teaching an old dog new tricks

I was wearing miniskirts and hippie beads when I took my first oil painting class one night a week at Trade School in Springfield, Massachusetts.  Since then, oils had been my favorite medium--until last summer.


However, last spring I took two weekend workshops in acrylics with artist, lecturer, and teacher Jan Blencowe of Clinton, Connecticut.  Acrylics became a whole new medium for me, although I'd been skeptical about whether it would be one I'd enjoy.  As I began experimenting with them, I was pleased with their similarity to oils.  For the most part, they mix the same way oils do, but dry much faster.  Not only that, but the process of painting is faster, and the cleanup is as well.   

I had not used acrylics for plein air painting until last summer when I made up my mind to give them a real trial.  On my painting trip to Monhegan Island, Maine in August, I left my oils home and took only acrylics.  The weather was good to me; the rain, mist, and fog were balanced by sunshine, warm days, and blue skies.  That's how I discovered that it's easier to paint on the "soft" days than on those when I painted in full sun.    I didn't have to keep misting my palette;  Mother Nature took care of that.  When the weather got too wet to continue painting outdoors, I'd just flip my old collapsible metal wet paint carrier upside down for the walk home.  This kept the canvas from being rained on and prevented the painting from being washed away. 

"Rainy Sunrise," 12 x 16" original acrylic on Irish linen, copyright Joan Cole

That technique didn't work quite as well the morning I painted "Rainy Sunrise,"  which was recently accepted into the 111th annual juried exhibition of the New Haven Paint and Clay Club.  After I had trekked back to the cottage from my perch overlooking the cliffs of Whitehead and turned the carrier right side up, I couldn't believe my eyes!  Mother Nature had played a trick on me on the walk home:  apparently my canvas had become so wet by the time I finally stopped painting in the heavy mist that the accumulated moisture had slid in rivulets down the canvas.  Not only that!  The underbrush I had hiked through had added some brushwork of its own.  I had to laugh.  Murphy's Law once again!  


Despite these surprises, I was able to rescue "Rainy Sunrise" from disaster by reworking some of the places that had been scratched and blurred.  It is what it is:   my creation enhanced by the elements on a magical Monhegan morning!  Another of God's many blessings.

If you'd like to see this masterpiece that Mother Nature and I created, please stop by Maple and Main Gallery at 1 Maple Street in Chester, CT 06412.  I  was so pleased at last night's opening of the new spring show when several visitors commented favorably on this particular painting.  

If you missed the opening, come join in the May Daze revels in Chester on Friday, May 4th from 5 to 8.   If you do, please say "Hello" to me, enjoy a glass of wine, hors d'oeuvres, good company, and over 200 other pieces of original art.   If you miss the May Daze extravaganza, the exhibition will run until June 10th.