Beyond Green: How Expressive Color Brings Landscape Paintings to Life
Have you ever been overwhelmed by green?
Everything in front of me that morning was green.
Green willow. Green pads. Green reflection running through green water. A summer lotus pond doing what a summer pond does best.
So I painted it violet.
Not because violet is a clever trick, and not because I was trying to be different. I painted it violet because after a few minutes of standing there, I stopped asking myself, “What color is that?” and started asking, “How does this place make me feel?” Two very different questions, and they lead to two entirely different paintings.
Lotus Pond, 12x12" pastel
Here's what I want to encourage you with, and it took me years to trust;
You can let go of description without letting go of design.
Look at the painting and you'll see the pond is still there. The willow sits where the willow belongs. The shoreline runs where it should. The reflection drops straight down beneath the tree and holds the whole square together. The pads get smaller as they travel back. Everything structural is faithful.
What I threw away was the detailed description. The local color. The tidy edges. Every fact about what a lily pad actually looks like when you lean over and stare at one.
All that information, and I used almost none of it.
That's the trade-off, and I’ll take it every time. Most of us think we owe the scene an accurate report. Truth is, we’ve got cameras for that. As artists, what we owe is an honest response.
Monet understood this better than anyone. He painted the same pond hundreds of times, and it was never really about the water. The surface was an excuse. An excuse to chase color, to arrange shapes, to make marks, to wonder. The pond gave him permission to play, and he took it for the rest of his life.
So here's my summons for you this summer.
Go stand in front of something green and refuse to paint it green.
Keep the design. Get the big shapes right. Put the darks where the darks belong. Then let the color be yours. Let it be violet, sienna, burgundy or gold, whatever your heart is longing for. Nobody who sees your painting will hold you to what was actually there.
They'll only ask whether it feels alive.
They want to feel what you feel.
And trust me, they will.
Keep painting,
Alain
This is the kind of playful discovery we do together during Landscape Week, coming up August 31- September 4. Three live lessons, three ways to loosen up. Registration opens on August 12.
