I was recently asked about the process of composing and titling pieces, and whether these are “real” places, or imagined. They’re both. The inspiration is a real place, and that scene usually dictates the initial composition. But in the process of working up a charcoal sketch from the source, I modify to include things they may not have been there, or remove things that were. My memory of the subject can blend with memories of other pieces, and when that happens, I may modify the composition towards that other mental image. This is a good example. The actual barn complex is in Vermont, but while working on it, it reminded me of a small, hilly town not far from here…Temple, New Hampshire. I’ve done many paintings inspired by scenes in that small Monadnock Region town, so I took it’s name for the title. “Temple Road” 36 x 36.
There’s a stretch of shore along the beaches of Cape Cod Bay, between Barnstable Harbor and Harwich, where every fall the bay winds move the sand from beach to land, and from land to beach. It’s a barren but beautiful expanse of dunes with roads that wind through them to a parking lot at the end. I was there recently and the dune fences had recently been installed to hopefully encourage the sand to stay on the dunes. It never works out that way, but the effort admirable, and repeated annually. “Shifting Sands” 20 x 20 o/c
I came across these two barns in Vermont a few years ago. I’ve always loved how those who built these enduring structures built them where they needed them, even if the land didn’t cooperate. We tend to make land suit our needs nowadays, moving it around to accommodate construction plans. In the hilly landscape of New England, farmers had to work with the land, not against it. “Highland Morning” 48 x 48 o/c
The nearby Bass River, which separates Yarmouth and Dennis (on Cape Cod) flows inland from Nantucket Sound heading North and narrowing along the way, ending as a saltwater pond close to Cape Cod Bay. At the mouth of the river, a sandspit lines the river’s entry and contains a small grove of weathered, wind-dwarfed white pines and scrub oaks. It’s a small but desolate place, and I’ve hiked through it for years, particularly in the morning. The river passes this spit, extends northward, but also branches to the east to form an inland waterway lined with summer homes, boat docks, and ends at a yacht club. It’s a spot of barren land that illustrates what the Cape looked like hundreds of years before summer people and settlers came and built. “Lagoon” 20 x 16
We’re at that time of the year where Summer fades into Fall. Days begin with an Autumn coolness and clarity, and often end with the heat and haze of July. The color of the landscape begins to warm, with greens beginning to take on a warmer shade, and golds and yellows begin to emerge. For many (including me), it’s the best season of the year, as hints of summer remain, but the beauty of a New England Fall begin to appear. “End of Summer” 40 x 30 o/c
A friend recently asked why I like sunrises. I said I just do. He replied, “Sleep in. Wait 12 hours and you’ll see pretty much the same thing.” Fair enough, and sort of true, but there’s something different about the first light of day, then the last. While I like both, early morning light is different, and unlike sunsets, more unpredictable. “Early Morning” 40 x 30.
The sense of peace, and calmness, found in rural settings makes them obvious retreats from more urban areas, as the unpeopled quiet of the countryside helps pacify the chaos and stress we all feel at one time or another. “Pacific” 24 x 24 o/c.
Rural landscapes are generally simple things. When you look at them often, and really study them, there is more complexity to them then you might think. This meadow is just down the road. I pass it multiple times a day, and have painted it before. Each time I look at it, and paint it, there is something different…color, light, and different parts of the landscape stand out as a likely subject. “Northern Meadow” 24 x 24 o/c.
There’s an equestrian center about a mile from the studio, on the opposite side of a small pond and hill behind our house. A trail that ends pretty much in my back yard connects to a series of trails that lead back to the stables, after winding their way through woods, along an old railroad bed, and past several old farms. The worn dirt paths are reminders of what the roads through town looked like, many decades ago, before development and paving made them what they are today. “Bridleway” 36 x 24 o/c.
The Cape has an abundance of cedar trees, and they tend to grow in clusters, with separate trunks, but often forming a single canopy. This grouping was surrounded by many others that are outside the picture, with totality casting shade on the entire scene. That thin slice of light cutting through an opening in the trees, and touching the facade of the barn, caught my eye. “Cedar Stand” 36 x 24
