Landscapes
My relationship to landscapes is… ever-changing. I have never really considered myself a landscape painting because it has been done for so long by so many other artists. I do not think I could reach to that quality and do not want to copy the poor ones. My solution is, when I actually feel the urge, is to create paintings that are more three dimensional and textured than just paint on canvas. That's my way out and forward. The ones below are all from the area around Valleyfield and Mont-Rigaud. It is where I often spend time and have a chance to look a bit more slowly and pick out images that inspire me.
Orme mourant (Dying Elm)
In 2012, I was cycling near Mt. Rigaud, Quebec, and off in the distance I could see dark thunderstorm clouds (never a good sign for a road cyclist) and across the field, an elm tree starting to die. This foreground image was brightly illuminated by the summer sun - the storm clouds had not covered the sky yet. It struck me and I stopped to photograph the scene. I don't consider myself a landscape painter but I am growing into it when I feel there is a way to work the painting's surface in different ways to give it texture and vibrancy. So in this case the leaves are quite shiny and thick. Likewise the trunk - although not shiny. The field in the foreground is actually worked even more thickly, coming out about progressively on top of the canvas at the bottom to about an inch higher. But it all comes back to a single dramatic visual moment that stayed with me and that I knew I wanted to capture. Acrylic on canvas. Size: two feet by four feet. Not for sale.
In 2012, I was cycling near Mt. Rigaud, Quebec, and off in the distance I could see dark thunderstorm clouds (never a good sign for a road cyclist) and across the field, an elm tree starting to die. This foreground image was brightly illuminated by the summer sun - the storm clouds had not covered the sky yet. It struck me and I stopped to photograph the scene. I don't consider myself a landscape painter but I am growing into it when I feel there is a way to work the painting's surface in different ways to give it texture and vibrancy. So in this case the leaves are quite shiny and thick. Likewise the trunk - although not shiny. The field in the foreground is actually worked even more thickly, coming out about progressively on top of the canvas at the bottom to about an inch higher. But it all comes back to a single dramatic visual moment that stayed with me and that I knew I wanted to capture. Acrylic on canvas. Size: two feet by four feet. Not for sale.
Stream to Sky
South of Mont Rigaud near Montreal, the terrain is pancake flat. Based on a photo, I wanted to capture the feeling of summer light and space. As the Dying Elm below, also inspired by the same location, I used lots of different products to enhance the paint. So it is thick in some places, such as the nearest rows in the field. The stream is glossy and the sky matte. Although I started on it several years ago, I always had something else to work on. But I did keep coming back to it and am happy with the result. Acrylic on canvas. Size: two feet by four feet. Not for sale.
South of Mont Rigaud near Montreal, the terrain is pancake flat. Based on a photo, I wanted to capture the feeling of summer light and space. As the Dying Elm below, also inspired by the same location, I used lots of different products to enhance the paint. So it is thick in some places, such as the nearest rows in the field. The stream is glossy and the sky matte. Although I started on it several years ago, I always had something else to work on. But I did keep coming back to it and am happy with the result. Acrylic on canvas. Size: two feet by four feet. Not for sale.
St-Laurent gelé
Winter at its greyest. No sun, overcast sky. Cold. Here I was outside of Montreal on a part of the St. Lawrence that was frozen, looking off into the expanse. The image resonated with me along with the challenge to control a narrow range of greys, not something with which I have a lot of confidence. But I like the simplicity of the result, which captures the cold, isolation and boredom of winter in an image. You cannot tell very well, but the snow on the ice on the foreground is actually textured and clearly sits on top of the ice with a strong presence. Acrylic on canvas, 30 by 40 inches.
Winter at its greyest. No sun, overcast sky. Cold. Here I was outside of Montreal on a part of the St. Lawrence that was frozen, looking off into the expanse. The image resonated with me along with the challenge to control a narrow range of greys, not something with which I have a lot of confidence. But I like the simplicity of the result, which captures the cold, isolation and boredom of winter in an image. You cannot tell very well, but the snow on the ice on the foreground is actually textured and clearly sits on top of the ice with a strong presence. Acrylic on canvas, 30 by 40 inches.
