I was about 30 or 31 when I made my first plein air painting. Jeepers … that means I’ve been at it off and on for about 50 years. I started when my husband and I lived in New Canaan, Connecticut. I was painting with watercolors at that time, and I took a class at the Silvermine Art Center from John Pellew, who I believe was part of the Westport School of artists. We met once a week, and each week he did a demonstration outside on the campus grounds. He would alternate painting in watercolor one week and oil the next.
The watercolor kit I started with was naturally lightweight. When I switched to oils, my pack got considerably heavier. Over time, however, I learned to take a lot less with me and pack as light as I can. Now I fit everything in one little backpack, including a lightweight tripod, partial tubes of paint, a small container of Gamsol, brushes, paper towels, a small umbrella, pochade box, a couple of small canvases in a lightweight carry box, a small sketch pad, three pencils, a sharpener, eraser, small headlamp, Leatherman tool, two bungee cords, Kleenex, sunscreen, and a windbreaker.
The truth is, darn it, I’m just not as strong as I used to be, and I don’t have the endurance I had at even 60 or 70. I tell myself that carrying a backpack is good for my bone strength and it’s more mobile than a cart. But even with the lighter pack, I don’t walk as far as I used to. If I can park near enough to the subject I want to paint to be able to open the hatch of my car and work out of the back, that’s golden.
Having said that, I’m fortunate to not have any truly serious health issues. I count my blessings and try to maintain good physical health practices. Carrying a pack, walking, and standing when painting, I think, are all great exercise.
In years past, I painted most of my landscape work en plein air, no matter the season. Now, the number of days I go outside to paint varies with the season and with the amount of studio work I’m doing. In warmer weather, I try to paint outdoors at least once a week — more if I’m on a roll. But in the dead of winter, I’m lucky to get out a couple of times a month. That’s partly because of the cold and partly because winter is when I focus on painting larger studio pieces for my galleries or shows.
Today, I worry less about getting a finished painting outdoors unless I’m painting in a plein air event. My unfinished paintings are a major source of material for studio paintings. They provide a perfect record of lighting, color, and my feelings about a scene that photographs can’t.
I’ve come to realize that the more I paint, the more I recognize how much I don’t know. Along with the problem-solving and creative aspects of painting, learning new things is one of the aspects that keeps me excited. For example, after a winter of primarily painting studio pieces, painting outside in nature is necessary for getting reacquainted with what the actual landscape looks like — the light, the color, the values — all of it.
And painting en plein air teaches me to paint more intuitively and faster. Efficiency is essential when painting outside because the sun is always moving, or the wind is picking up, or the rain is fast approaching. Second-guessing and reworking a painting just gets in the way of finishing.
My natural tendency is to noodle things to death. I think one of the most valuable things I learned this past year is to not worry about making things perfect. Plein air doesn’t lend itself to my impulse to over-refine and detail a painting. And I’ve discovered that the paintings I’ve done that I’ve liked the most aren’t perfect. The brushwork is fresh because I haven’t “fixed” things. I’m trying to bring more of that freshness into my studio work, and plein air has been the catalyst for that.
In general, age isn’t really an issue other than the fact that you need to be more diligent about maintaining a healthy lifestyle. If you do have a physical limitation, then the thing to do is to figure out the best way to accommodate that limitation in a way that allows you to still be able to paint. If you can’t carry a backpack, get a little cart. If you can’t stand the sun, get a big umbrella or at least a hat. If you hate the cold, get a big down snowmobiler’s suit. I had a friend build me an easel for my steering wheel so that I can sit in the front seat of my car and paint on site even if it’s pouring rain or 10 below.
Another goal should be to maintain your curiosity and interest in learning. Joining a community of people who are of similar age who like to paint is a wonderful way to keep your interest perking along. And there are many excellent workshops and events like PACE [the Plein Air Convention & Expo] available that provide a way to meet people, see new places, and learn while you’re at it.
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