There is so much I want to say about nature, what it means to us, and why I want to paint it. As I am working my way to a new form in my art, all these questions are dangling in my head.
This week, the effort is to clarify what I see and how I want to express it. It was clear last week, it is not anymore. There is too much going on in my mind, too many things I want to do at once.
This sketch shows where I am: it is crowded and overworked. It had to be, because that is how I figure out what I want. Ideas have to materialize into paint and paper before I decide what to keep or not.

I am aiming for simplicity and clarity. But I am painting profusion, trial and error as well as some emerging color ideas.

I love the intensity of gouache. After the freshness and limpidity of watercolor, which I also loved, it feels as sensuous as chocolate. And while I am discovering what I can do with it, this simple pleasure fuels my quest.

Louise Jalbert, “October Colors on the Lake, Saint-Bruno”, 2017, Gouache on paper,  11 x 15 inches

Last week, I wrote about changing from one technique to another, from watercolor to gouache. That change had been brewing in me for a while and though technique will play an important part, it’s about more than technique. It’s about expanding my art, working out some ideas, and developing new skills. Changing technique is good way to start this process.

But before I get very absorbed with this new body of work, I have some unfinished business to attend to.

Prior to my departure for France, I had started a few watercolors, that were left aside. For some of them, it was a lack of time, for others, I was stuck. Both the trip and stepping into a different technique have given me the distance to get back to them with a fresh eye. Thus before I really move ahead with another project, I want to complete them.

It’s not that everything I wanted to do with this project is done. That’s impossible, and unattainable. Still, I am happy with what I did and learned, for now. It has generated a lot of ideas I want to take into another form of painting
(http://www.tate.org.uk/art/art-terms/f/form).

That form is still to be found, and here’s why getting back to unfinished work will be a good thing.

It gets me back in touch with the numerous ideas that were were brimming in my mind while I was painting.

 

 

Ideas on composition such as:

How far can I render a tapestry-like effect in nature before it gets too even?

Ideas on color such as:

How many greens are there and how do you make them alive?

 

 

 

 

You can see several attempts here.
Did I exhaust those ideas? I feel I barely started to explore them. And as I forge ahead, they will be my stepping stones to the next form.

 

Louise Jalbert, “Branches and Foliage”, 2017, Watercolor on paper, 11 x 15 inches, and other unfinished watercolors in the studio.

It’s time to change technique.

For the last two years, I’ve been working in watercolor, and that gave me a chance to develop a good grip on this technique. I chose watercolor because I wanted to express lightness, fluidity, and transparency. It has worked well. 

Since I am aiming to expand my vision now, and to start painting on canvases again, I need to bring a wider range of expression, from translucence to thickness. So I need to change technique, at least for now.

Technique is a bit like a language, I think. When you speak a certain language, you don’t say things quite the same way as in another. Words sound differently, and expressions offer a different meaning: the music is not quite the same. So going from one to the other enriches your understanding of both.

That’s why I am doing sketches in gouache now. I am switching languages to broaden my mind. Gouache is water-based, just like watercolor, except it has more pigment and less arabic gum (arabic gum is the medium that holds the pigments). That makes it opaque, which allows for superposition of colors, light on dark or dark on light. When diluted it can become transparent, though not as finely as watercolor. That gives me a good range to work in, technically. And since you can easily correct a mistake by going over it, it is very forgiving, which is great for studies.

                                                                                            

Here’s an example of gouache (left) and watercolor (right). Same color, not the same impact. Gouache has solidity, yet smoothness in it and you can superimpose other colors, light or dark. Watercolor is subtler, and every layer color adds to the other, so you have to be careful not to overdo it, otherwise the colors become muddy.

 

 

 

 

In this sketch (right), I am sorting out ideas for painting. Color ideas, like the red tree against the blue sky. Space ideas, as in the scale of the tree and the house in the distance.

Composition ideas and technique ideas: I kept some parts diluted so as to have transparency in some areas, as you can see in the purple trees on the lower right. 

There’s a lot to figure out, and so an easier technique like gouache allows me to mess around before I take this or another idea to a bigger scale on canvas. So I’ll keep at it for a while, let’s see what will happen.

 Louise Jalbert, “Red Tree with Blue Sky”, 2017, Gouache on paper, 12 x 9 inches

It’s good to be back in the studio with a regular schedule. It grounds me as I reconnect with my art and with life.

It’s been an interesting summer. Completing Seth Godin’s Marketing Seminar is an accomplishment of which I’m proud and happy. It has meant less time for creating art, but it has been a transformative experience and the rewards are important: A new mindset for marketing, invaluable learning, and meeting some brave, generous and insightful people.

One of the above is fellow artist, Francesca Saveri. On her latest blog, Francesca writes eloquently about the creative process in “How I know when it’s done”, noting “an exhaustion of emotion” can lead to new creations.

Something similar may be happening for me, as I am picking up speed in the studio, though not gaining momentum yet. My vision of tapestry is there, only at times I feel as if I’m not fully grasping it. Or worse, not fully feeling it.

Perhaps it only needs more time and work; maybe I need to risk some changes. The next weeks will be revealing. I do have time, a technique with which I’m well-acquainted and my favorite subjects are glowing in a gorgeous summer light. What more could I want?

A sense of adventure

That sense is not entirely there right now. Not yet. It’s ironic and uncomfortable but I believe it’s a good sign: Something is brewing. I can see it in the above image: there is assertiveness in it, as well as a some probing. An interesting combination that speaks of the process.

How long will this fermentation take? What ingredient should I add or subtract, if any? Curiosity comes to mind. What happens if I do this? What happens if try that? That’s all it takes for now, and thus I am ploughing on, eager to discover what the process yields in this awaited adventure.

Louise Jalbert, Premières couleurs d’automne, aout 2017, aquarelle sur papier, 28 x 37 cm

Tapestry is the word that keeps coming up when I want to say how I see the natural world. Everything is woven together.

Leaves steaming from the branches, trees rooted in the soil, the birds singing and insects crawling, light playing through the leaves – it is all a tapestry of beauty, extending even to the moon as it passed in front of the sun, casting its shadow on the earth during our solar eclipse this week. Such a subtle perception is not always easy to convey, but this work above expresses it well, I think. Whatever I develop in the next few months, tapestry will be at the core of my art.

During the last few weeks, the dialogue we have started has rooted itself in my practice. Your attentive presence has given me new impulses to create with more spontaneity, while digging deeper into meaning. Together, we are weaving a new tapestry.

Louise Jalbert, “Illuminated Foliage, septembre 2015”, Watercolor on paper, 11 x 15 inches

I tend to be a perfectionist.

It makes me feel safe. I should say “we” tend to be perfectionists as this illusion appeals to many of us. And the funny thing is, often art is not perfect. It shows doubt, trial and error, even a struggle. A human struggle.

Last April, I was visiting galleries in the Chelsea neighbourhood of New York with a dear friend of mine, Jason Starr. Jason is a filmmaker, who shares his passion for music with great insight, particularly the music of Gustav Mahler: http://www.culturalmedia.net/artistic-director/.

We came upon the work of Lynette Lombard (see below) http://lynettelombard.com. It was gutsy, feisty and colourful work, which I appreciated, but I also felt a bit uneasy about it. I thought it lacked a certain definition, or carefulness. Jason, on the other hand, loved it. As we started to compare our observations and reactions, I became aware that what I saw as the chaotic aspect of her work was unsettling to me. Nevertheless, I had been touched and that triggered a reflection.

The experience of her work and my reaction are inspiring me to experiment with my own art in this direction. My work above is a step in that direction. It takes time to explore a new territory and see what fits or not, but it also open possibilities.

Louise Jalbert, “Foliage in Disarray”, 2017, Watercolor on paper, 11 x 15 inches

Lynette Lombard, Afloat, Oil on linen, 26″x26″, 2016