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Slow down and pay attention to discover
a more intimate landscape defined by light and pattern
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By Mark A. Collins
A good friend likes to say, that driving
down the highway, I’ll notice if the color of a particular
leaf on a particular tree has changes since we passed it
the day before. Now, that’s a bit of a stretch—but
I happily admit to paying very close attention to nature.
As a child I remember sitting on the forest
floor meticulously studying the structure of a flower, the
patterns on the surface of the water or the variety of colors
in the autumn leaves. Today, painting these subjects is,
in many ways, my antidote o the dizzying pace of our technology-driven
society. I don’t have a cell phone or a fax machine;
I have no desire to be that accessible. I prefer to be undisturbed,
free to immerse myself in the intricacies of nature and to
surround myself with beauty. In this environment, my mind
becomes still, and I clarify what matters to me.
The Interplay of Light
Most of my paintings take months to complete,
so I choose subjects that will sustain my attention. Often
I have a vision of the final painting long before I sit down
to paint. The beauty of a potential subject is what initially
captivates me, but this is only the beginning. I want to
find out more about it, to investigate its subtleties beyond
a first impression so that I might understand why I find
it beautiful.
My intimate landscapes are as much about
the presence of light as they are about the subject itself.
Sunlight is such a dynamic force in nature, whether it’s
absorbed, reflected or scattered. Studying the light helps
me answer several questions: Is there a complete value range
when I envision the composition as a black-and-white study?
Will the strongest lights and darks create an interesting
pattern? Is there a concentrated area of light? Does light
also dance around the objects and create reflections and
translucence? The best subjects have all these components.
When I find a composition I like, I immediately begin to
think about where the white of the paper will represent the
brightest light and how I might push color into the shadows
to achieve rich, luminous darks. Light is part of the design.
I see it as a pathway through the painting.
Getting the Greens
 Any
artist painting subjects in nature will ultimately confront
the challenge of greens, which demand a mastery of color
mixing. I’ve found that multiple transparent layers
create the most realistic greens. I often begin a green with
a glaze of pure yellow, which I allow to dry completely.
If I want a bright yellow-green, I’ll start with lemon
yellow. Transparent yellow produces a middle-range green.
Warm, soft greens begin with aureolin or new gamboge. A thin
layer of quinacridone gold is especially useful in communicating
translucence.
When I mix green on my palette, I also begin
with yellow and then add a cool or warm green, depending on
the color temperature I’m trying to achieve. Where leaves
or grasses overlap, layers of cobalt blue and ultramarine blue
create believable transparent shadows. Adding the complement
rose madder genuine or permanent alizarin crimson creates beautiful
gray or dark greens. Any red as an accent color imparts a pleasing
visual vibration.
Focus on What Matters
I believe you have to paint beauty for
its own sake. Learn to ignore the critics, many of whom will
be your fellow artists, when they assert that your fascination
with detail and faithful reproduction of color and texture
convey only technique but no content or message. The natural
world is worth our attention. Its complexity has much to teach
us. As with any intimacy, the closer we get to our subject,
the more we can know and understand.
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