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| Foggy Morning 6x24 oil by Michael Chesley Johnson Available |
Recently, we had a spell of thick fog. Dawn arrived with streetlamps shrouded in mist, moisture dripping from every leaf, and dew-hung cobwebs quilting the mown fields. If the fog retreated offshore during the day, it crept back in toward evening. Night always seems to come extra-early on foggy days.
As seductive as fog can be in the way it wraps the landscape in mystery and softness, it's a detriment to painting outdoors. On foggy days, unless I'm teaching a workshop and want to demonstrate to my students how to treat it, I am more likely to take a hike than to pick up the brush. This time, I took a walk at Herring Cove.
From the observation deck, which overlooks a mile of beach, I couldn't see much. Seaweed-clad rocks nearby; a line of surf, arcing off into the fog; a rich, green glow, the only sign that a patch of beach grass lay out there, somewhere. The fog made the breadth of the view seem curiously vaster than on a clear day. The surf whispering against the sand seemed louder.
The moment held a quality that immediately spoke to me as a lover of landscape. I decided to make a painting of it, but not having pencil or brush, I spent several minutes observing. First, I decided that the proportions of the scene before me were more important to recreating the feeling of its scope; so, using my hand, I measured distances and angles, committing these to memory. Then I observed the relative warmth and coolness of different parts; the beach and water were warmer than the emptiness of fog, which was cooler. Finally, I looked at value and chroma, noting that the darkest and richest parts of the scene were those closest at hand.
When I got back to the studio, I drew a design and made notes before the memory evaporated.
I didn't get back to this project until after I'd done most of my packing for our annual trip out west. I made just this small piece, which is 6"x24". I think a larger version, say 2 by 8 feet, would make an awesome over-the-couch piece. I'll save that for another season.
By the way, as I was painting the foggy portions, I couldn't help but think of Agnes Martin, who is famous for her subtle, high-key abstractions. If she'd continued to be a landscape painter, as she was in her early years, she might have become a master of fog.
