Addison Art Gallery, Fine Art Gallery on Cape Cod

Before the Masterpieces

An intriguing show of new works along with the sketches, studies and reference photos and notes created in preparation for the finished paintings. Studies can help an artist plan composition, color choices, light and perspective. More spontaneous than most finished works, studies can be dynamic, show the artist’s thought process and often differ greatly from the finally presented works. For instance, Michelangelo’s study for the Libyan Sibyl on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel is based on a male model while the finished painting is of a woman. This exhibition gives the viewer a look at the work and experiments that lead to the art we see completed and framed.

"The original idea in creating Searing Finale was to push the color saturation so deep and far the viewer could feel the warmth radiating from the surface. Before starting out on the larger piece, I practiced on a smaller panel so that I could work quicker and with less inhibitions allowing me the freedom to push the reds and oranges further than what I was traditionally comfortable with. I then applied the color combinations I used in the study when I created the larger work.” —Paul Batch

"My first sketch, charcoal on paper, is from my photo reference images at Wellfleet bay of the oysters which will be my focal point. I can see here where some shapes and curves actually appear awkward and need to be altered for a more pleasing composition.

"The oil sketch for Afternoon Delight shows where the horizon line will be to allow for the amount of bay I'd like visible above the tops of the shells. I have slightly changed the shape of the left oyster, so my oil sketch adjusts where the light and highlights will hit it. I also add some of the glow and shine placement and basic color palette before moving to the final painting.” —SaraJane Doberstein

"Perspective can be the most critical element when creating a city scene. Proper perspective creates the illusion of space and depth. However, if the perspective lines are off just a fragment, the eye immediately notifies the brain that something is wrong and it can ruin an otherwise technically sound piece. I often create a sketch to locate the vanishing points, to draw my perspective lines from. ”

"After the proper vanishing points to my perspective lines are located, I transfer them to a panel. Just like the buildings I am painting, they must have the proper foundation — the perspective lines are the foundation."

"It is less important to adhere to the perspective lines early in a painting, as long as the correct vanishing points are in place. I often check back with them, to make sure I am in range. As the buildings are constructed, the vanishing points become more and more important. Building up from the foundation of the painting, every significant stroke can not stray from its vanishing point or the painting can be lost."—Jonathan Earle

"Sometimes painters need to slow down to think things through. I wanted to depict a feeling I had experienced standing in Edward Hopper’s studio and watching the first sunlight of morning flood over the studio wall. As I was relying only on my memory to envision my new painting I wanted to give the composition time to crystalize in my mind. Choosing a step-by-step approach I first made a small preparatory oil to explore how the shapes and chords of color could best work together. Then
I felt ready to move on to make a more involved larger painting.” — Philip Koch

"Painting is a process of discovery for me. It starts with a blank panel or sheet of paper and, as in this case, sketches gathered from my collection of life drawings. These get transferred to the support, then enhanced with more drawing on top, becoming the bones of the piece. Playful washes of acrylic paint provide the underlying atmosphere and space. From there it's a process of recognition of forms, developing a narrative, and refinement of composition using layers and layers of oil and wax. And more drawing. The forms, figures and stories inevitably reflect my experience and observations of the Outer Cape world.” —Marc Kundmann

"For this landscape, I worked most everything out on the canvas after this simple sketch. I had a bunch of reference photos from an evening on the beach, and I rearranged the simple composition to fit in the square I wanted to paint. While I am sketching, I look at the colors and try to start with a trio of colors for the initial layer (a red, a blue and a yellow). In this case, Indanthrone blue and quinacridone red. I crossed out cadmium yellow because I didn’t need it on the first layer. The following layers add richness to the piece, and I add more colors at this point. I always write them down in case I ever have to go back into it, it would be easy to mix the colors again.” —Sharon McGauley

"The initial goal of this piece was to explore the reflections on and refractions within the shallow, calm waters of Cape Cod Bay on a sunlit day. While I’ve done water many times before, this is the first time I have explored so deeply the transitions as one’s viewpoint shifts. At the top, with the viewer looking outward about 15’ (and the water depth about 4’ ), the focus is mostly on reflections of the blue sky in the light chop, with only the barest glimpses of sunlit patterns on the bottom. Progressing down, it gradually changes from primarily sky reflections to more and more looking down into the intricacies of sunlight refracting on the sandy bottom, which is lightly ridged with the passing of each wave. At the very bottom I hope to have the viewer looking through a mere foot of water directly at the sand with almost no reflection of the sky.

“Being a new exploration for me, I’ve been amazed at how the colors change so thoroughly with each inch. (I change almost half the colors from one inch to the next.) My process has been to render roughly an inch at a time, all the way across. When I’ve completed the inch, I choose the new colors for the next horizontal inch, work a few of the new ones into the just-completed inch, and then paint the next inch.

"This piece has been far more challenging than I expected. I didn’t see all the subtleties of the transition initially, and it has gotten more difficult with each inch I get from the top (which was much the same as many of my distant water pieces and so quite comfortable for me). I am fairly confident the final piece will have at least 7” of height (to 12” of width). If I am diligent, observant, and fortunate enough, it will be a full 12” in height when it is completed.” —Amy Sanders