Sandra Pearce Artist Blog

Last week I participated in the Lake Oswego Plein Air for the first time. The Oregon town has many beautiful sites, so I narrowed my choices to three: a historic farm, a quiet spot on the river, and a view of a patchwork hillside. Weather varied from baking heat, to overcast, to full-on dark downpours.

The rolling-hills farm has community gardens. I adore both the neatness of some vegetable plots and the crowded jumble of others. I sought a shady spot near the gardens, but a rustic shed and overgrown passage kept drawing my eye. That is what I had to paint that day. Several observers stated that they had never noticed that scene before, or had never "Seen" it as I do. I always smile at such comments - it means I'm getting my vision across. One woman additionally said, "I wonder what's through there...?" as she crept down that path and disappeared. This was high compliment - affirmation that I was succeeding with my effort. It is exactly what I want viewers to get out of my work: to feel the mood, that they are part of the scene, and to wonder or imagine what is through that doorway, around that corner or over that rise. Once the painting is removed from the site, I thought, I won't risk losing more viewers down the rabbit hole. Hopefully, they will get lost in the painting.

Next day I painted early morning on the river bank. The world offers special reward for early rising: not only the calm cool quietude of dawn, but it always reveals something unexpected. This time it was a solitary rower in one of those single-person crafts, silently gliding across the glass-like surface of the water. I couldn't be sure if he was recreating or exercising, or both. In short time, he was joined by others, and they traversed up and down the river several times, apparently training for an event.

The following day found me in a field on a hillside, painting the vista across a small valley. This day was fraught with challenges. I was sneezing incessantly, even with allergy medication. The sun was blazing and I had no shade or umbrella. This painting was not to be on this day - but the experience will remain strong in my memory because of these extremes. I will remember the curve of the road up the hill, the field rows, the meadows and hedges, distant tree lines, and the new artist acquaintances I made that day. It will serve me well, when I soon paint the larger version of the same scene which I have already drawn up. 

Rain moved in the next day - dark brooding clouds turned day into night at times. A generous painter shared a location tip - A large overhang where I could get a vista view of the historic farm, and be sheltered from the rain. A lovely pastoral scene in sunlight turned to pure drama as the sky darkened menacingly behind the farm. That was it! This would be a low horizon painting, with the big sky and brooding storm approaching. I must say, it worked. I was pleased with the effect.

Five paintings were completed over the days, and one more started. But only two could be entered in the Museum Plein Air exhibit. No sales take place in the Museum Exhibit, but I do hope that the pieces touch hearts and find new owners at the Lake Oswego Plein Air Festival later this month.