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I spend a lot of time painting outdoors. This is usually a pretty solitary and pleasant pursuit but occasionally, when I'm painting close to civilization or even right in the city, onlookers will walk up to see what I am doing. Apparently, the sight of a man standing outside at an easel smearing paint around is remarkable. Imagine that.

I'm no longer bothered by people looking over my shoulder as I paint. Comes with the territory. I appreciate the folks who give me a silent wave or a thumbs up before they go on their way. Thank you. Other people seem to assume that since I'm working in public, I must be anxious for a little light conversation. I'm not, and I don't invite it, but when they say "Oh, that's beautiful," I say, "Thank you," while I carry on.

Almost invariably, their next line is "I'd love to do that but I can't even draw a straight line." At this point--because I try not to be rude, I really do--I'll usually say something like "Sorry, I can't stop to talk. I'm going to lose the light" and keep my brush moving. This usually does the trick and I'm left alone, for a while at least, to paint in peace. But I've given some thought to that "I can't even draw a straight line or a stick figure" comment. And so here's what I would say to these people if I were interested in talking, rather than painting.

You say you can't even draw a straight line? Well, why in the world would you expect to? Have you ever really tried to draw a straight line? Then tried again, and then again? Probably not. You just assumed that the ability to draw a straight line is inherent. You either have it or you don't. But why would you assume that to be true? Do you suppose that Mark Knopfler or Eric Clapton emerged from their mothers' wombs, tiny guitars clutched in their chubby baby hands, ready to lay down some twelve-bar blues? Might have happened that way, but I doubt it. And I'm pretty sure Rembrandt wasn't born with a pad and a pencil and the ability to draw either. My point here is that like playing guitar, drawing is an acquired skill. It's learned.

You want to draw? No problem. I can have you drawing in about five minutes. Go get a pencil and a piece of paper. Now sit down at your kitchen table and draw the hand that's not holding the pencil. Or your coffee cup, salt and pepper shakers, bottle of Tabasco (that one's harder than it looks), toaster, or whatever you're looking at. Okay, five minutes are up and you just drew. You probably didn't draw well, but you drew. Yup, you just drew. Now, if you want to draw well, that's a different kettle of ink. One way to improve is just to practice. Drawing is a process of training your eyes and brain to really see what you're looking at and then training your hand to put that on paper. So if you draw that same coffee cup again, then draw it again tomorrow, and the next day, etc., constantly looking for and correcting the inaccuracies, your drawing will improve. Better yet, get some help. There are lots of instructional books and we now have this internet thing, just full of really skillful people happy to show you how to fix your toaster, saddle your mule, and draw. There is more explanation, instruction, and inspiration on that Google machine than you will ever be able to take advantage of. Another avenue is in-person instruction or drawing groups. If you don't live in the boonies, you can go to your local art supply store and they will certainly point you in the right direction.

Here's my point. If you want to draw, you can learn. Straight lines, stick people, coffee cups, taxis and city buses, your husband with a beer in his hand. and his feet on the table. They're not going to be great drawings, they probably won't even be good drawings at first, but who cares? You're doing something you never thought you'd do: you're drawing! And then please, don't walk up to me at my easel and tell me you can't even draw a straight line. It's getting harder and harder all the time not to be rude.

                                                                                                                                                                                                          - Rod Gould

SHIRLEY TREVENA  Issue 3

I would like to introduce one of my favourite artists, Shirley Trevena.  She is a British artist with an international reputation.

I was immediately drawn to Shirley’s use of colour and her sometimes unusual composition.  Her four books show her creative process along with stories and memories.

I have experimented with Shirley Trevena’s unique style, but it will take many more hours with my paint brushes before I can claim success.

I’m hope that you will be as inspired as I was when I read my first Shirley Trevena book.  You might even lose a little sleep thinking about her vibrant colour combinations.                                                            

Maureen Potter is a Member of the Okanagan Art Gallery                                                       

WHY ABSTRACT? Issue 2

Painting is one method of expressing ourselves on a flat surface. For me, it is an input of creativity, imagination and as a way to bring emotions of any sort to the forefront.

As true of many abstract artists I tend to let go of an end result and just let the work flow in the direction that speaks to me. If I try to get too technical I will often mess up. I usually start with a limited color palette and try to limit my expectations of a workable outcome.  Painting in an abstract way allows rules to be broken and looks at form in a different perspective. For me, it supplies a freedom of expression as I delve into my inner resources.

There are times where I give the piece a name before I start painting – sometimes that works to move me along the creative path and sometimes it doesn’t. My intent is usually to nudge along a specific feeling by means of pictorial language. Some of my work can be of geometrical design if I feel a need to be organized in my thoughts. It can feel more cerebral and objective with its systematic arrangement. Other works represent a strong emotion that I might feel from a personal experience that has rocked my world. Regardless of the source of my intention, it is always to allow the viewer room to come to their own conclusions and fill in the blanks. One of the joys but also one of the difficulties of painting in an abstract style is that I am driven not by what I see but by what I feel. There is no external information available to devise shape, color, texture or composition. Abstract play can assume a certain amount of freedom but does not benefit from lack of direction. I feel I still need to associate myself with certain limits and restrictions so that I don’t just muddle along.

Some folks look at an abstract art piece and a comment might be “I don’t know what I am looking at” or “this doesn’t represent anything I know.” That is precisely the point about abstract art. The intention is not to represent something in the real sense but to develop a sensitivity inspired by unconventional details.    - Jennifer Farnell

Jennifer Farnell is a member of the Okanagan Art Gallery and the Artists on Main.

Art in the Valley

Issue No. 1: WHY ART

This column is the first in a regular monthly series on the world of the visual arts in Osoyoos and the south Okanagan. I am a painter and so it will necessarily be biased in the direction of the aspects of art I am most familiar with – painting, sculpture, pottery, exhibitions. I appreciate, but know little about, weaving, spinning and quilting. I am a realist painter but I appreciate the difficulties of doing abstract art and will try to keep an open mind about it. Only about 0.8 percent of the Canadian labour force is engaged in the arts including drama, dance, architecture, radio and television; however about three percent of the population ‘does’ art. In Canada that’s nearly a million people; in Osoyoos and surrounding area, maybe two or three hundred [although it might be more as we tend to be retired with time on our hands].

When asked why they make art, most will say something like because they have to. Many enjoy the process but many more find it darned hard work. You aren’t necessarily born to do it or are lucky enough to have talent but art comes to dominate your thoughts and perceptions rather like an itch you can’t scratch. In the end it comes down to communicating through visual means something of one’s inner life to others. In this way artists are somewhat unique. Some artists think deeply and record their thoughts on paper. Some artists feel deeply and place their feelings on canvas for others to view. Still others record their passions in pottery and sculpture. Some art tries to be avant garde, some makes a social statement, most is content to be room decoration. The art world has been dominated for the last century by a climate of art criticism that insisted realism in art was passé and only non-representational [abstract] art could be taken seriously. Fortunately, this attitude has relaxed somewhat and gallery mavens in New York, Toronto and Los Angeles are somewhat more open to the possibility that realism is legitimate. Artists themselves debate this issue constantly and in this way try to learn tolerance and understanding of one another’s styles. For my part, although North America is awash in landscapes and flower paintings, it is sufficient if we only create beauty through our work. [I have only one thing which hangs on my studio easel and that is a tag which reads “Bring something new, something beautiful, something filled with light into the world”.]

Because I sometimes get carried away with philosophizing I will endeavour in these columns to also bring to you gentle reader something practical and useful from time to time.

Michael Jorden is a local painter of landscapes, historic and western subject matter. He welcomes your comments and suggestions and can be reached at mike@jordencook.com.