Plein Air - It's a Wrap

It’s a wrap. It’s done, over, completed and finished – at least for this year.  Solomons Plein Air Festival provided another week of good times with great artists showcasing the beauty of Solomons Island and the surrounding area of lower Calvert County. The only things left of this special event are the memories that have been etched in our minds, the photographs taken, and hopefully some artwork hanging in new homes.  For me, fortunately, there are two new paintings, a lot of dust on my car from repeated trips through the Calvert Marina and some new artist friends.

There’s a lot to reflect on from the week.  This year was different from the previous two as new job responsibilities prevented full dedication to seeking out the artists.  I missed the opportunities, and maybe I’m more grateful for the time I did have to spend with my wife and old and new friends.

The week started off in a familiar setting with the artists being offered an evening cruise on  The Dee of St. Mary’s from the Calvert Marine Museum. This floating party with a real Skipjack operated under sail is a great way to kick off the week, as is the reception that follows.  There has been a tradition of The Blessing of the Brushes, where each artist picks a brush as a memento and a prayer is offered.  Rev. Dottie Yunger recited a poem which really is a blessing of the artists.  

This year she chose

for the artist at the start of day ~o’donohue

May morning be astir with the harvest of night;
Your mind quickening to the eros of a new question,  
Your eyes seduced by some unintended glimpse
That cut right through the surface to a source.

May this be a morning of innocent beginning,
When the gift within you slips clear
Of the sticky web of the personal
With its hurt and its hauntings,
And fixed fortress corners,

A Morning when you become a pure vessel
For what wants to ascend from silence,

May your imagination know
The grace of perfect danger,
To reach beyond imitation,
And the wheel of repetition,                                      
Deep into the call of all
The unfinished and unsolved
Until the veil of the unknown yields
And something original begins
To stir toward your senses
And grow stronger in your heart

In order to come to birth
In a clean line of form,
That claims from time
A rhythm not yet heard,
That calls space to
A different shape.                                                                

May it be its own force field
And dwell uniquely
Between the heart and the light

To surprise the hungry eye
By how deftly it fits
About its secret loss.

~John O’Donohue

There is a lot to reflect on as the adrenaline of covering the festival ebbs. There are two general facets that come into focus as I type here.  First is the camaraderie among the artists and the friendliness they exude. It’s clear that the Plein Air Clan is welcoming and close group. The smiles, handshakes, hugs and lots of banter all show the care they have for one another.  It’s almost a fraternity/sorority feel as they know what it’s like to bear your vision of life to the world.  They each understand what is at stake when you show a vulnerability in a world that is quick to judge and easy to dismiss those that dare to live in the public view.  Not only is their finished work on display, but in the case of Plein Air, they show the process from start to completion while John Q. Public watches, talks and critiques though his art is most likely solely in his imagination.  I appreciate this band of adventurers for their daring and so much more.

This brings me to the second and broader topic. What is it that the artist asks of their self and of us?  What is it that the artist does really?

My take is that artists are first observers, watchers, and inquisitors of the world. They take in a scene that we all pass by during our busy and often mindless days.  I mean that in terms of the daily grind taking its toll on our capacity to notice the details around us.  Our jobs, kids, spouses and friends, finances and health, addictions and obsessions blind us to the world in many ways.  The artist seems to know to be mindful. Mindful of the light, the shape, the drama, the subtlety, color and texture of the life all around us.

Once they take in their surroundings they process the sight into a vision, an imagination of what is before them.  They can show a cloudy day and penetrating wind by color of the skies and the lean of the branches in the tree.  They can show the drama of the surf crashing against the rocks in a way that makes you hear the roar. The pond of lily pads becomes a softer version of the real thing inviting a sense of calm to anyone that beholds the image.  There are countless ways how the painter portrays a new reality.  It might be bold and abstract, the color palette might be minimal with just the right splash of color.  The abstract look through an arson ravaged rooming house may take you back to thinking of what it might have been, yet to someone else it may be the forward look to the phoenix rising from the ashes of a crime.

Each artist sculpts their special and unique view of life and asks us to slow down for a time to journey with them into the possible.  They show us how the world could look, perhaps how it should look.  Sometimes it’s the soft focus, like looking through a slightly frosted window, slowing our heart rate. It might be a colorful look at a face depicting shape and texture asking us to redefine our concept of beauty. A rusty car can be a centerpiece once again either depicting a classic design of years gone by, or the effects of aging on us all.

These intrepid souls of the brush, palette knife, squeegee, finger or q-tip go out in all weather, be it sweltering heat, blowing winds and at times cold and rain to capture that special moment.  I don’t think that they sleep much either. They dare us to rise before the sun, setup to capture the glow, hope and promise of a new day. The setting sun as well is a favorite time to paint in that golden hour of last light casting the final bit of warmth on the subjects of the eye.  Yet, darkness is not 

permission to retire from the pursuit of the next vision and re-imagination.  It merely means more dedication and equipment are required.  The dimly light scenes are painted under battery powered LED lamps, or maybe a small headlamp usually reserved for hikers and campers. These nocturne paintings have a whole new tone to them reminding us that though not lit by the sun, there is still a world to behold by those that venture out seeking more of life.

I love the week of Solomons Plein Air Festival. It’s a really busy week of shooting and posting, and I hope that it in some small way that adds to the event, or at the very least documents the talent represented in this collection of artists. I treasure the way the artists depict the world and how so many of them have shared conversation, and even more just how fun they can be while working on their projects. I count them all as friends, some quiet and reserved, a few quite amusing and several that are just plain fun. 

There is one other facet to address as I wind down. It was announced at the award ceremony that there was a new award this year. 

Joie de vivre, French for joyous living.  It could be the joy, or celebration of anything, such as conversation or a shared meal.  It's really about living everyday with a zest, a comprehensive reverie for life.  The award was sponsored by an artist that withdrew from the competition to care of their spouse who was recently diagnosed with cancer.  This award was presented to a particular artist within the competition that exuded a joy of life and painting. More that sharing who it is, I would rather ask each of us to consider how we each might take a bit more time to be mindful of the beauty and possibility around us.  How might we imagine our canvass, one the epitomizes hope, faith, generosity and kindness each day?  If you were to be diagnosed with or need to care for someone close with a serious illness, how would you exhibit joie de vivre?  Let us all go and shine that light as we just visioned it. 

I’ll be thinking of what to improve for next year, with several thoughts already brewing, and counting the days till I have the pleasure of hanging out with the Plein Air Committee, volunteers, artists and my lovely wife.  

Till we meet again my friends,

Peace,

Brian