Plein Aire Poppies: A Dialogue Between Watercolors and Poetry

I had been looking forward to this event because I had participated previously and always enjoyed the setting in a beautiful garden on the shore of Lake Osceola. I also liked to linger and watch the presentation and dream of painting something beautiful myself.

I searched among my previously written poems for something appropriate. I didn’t want to read a poem I had read at the Paint Out on prior years. I wanted to read something that painted with words what an artist tried to describe with colors on a page. I was sure the two creative processes had a lot in common.

I found a theme that might work: the struggle of someone trying to paint what they remembered of a long-lost lover. I worked on it a lot longer than I usually do with a new poem because I wasn’t satisfied with my allusions to painting techniques or the descriptions of the speaker’s emotions in a colorful and evocative manner. The deadline was quickly nearing and I was beginning to feel relatively satisfied with my work when I read it out loud and realized that part of my free verse rhymed and the rest didn’t! Unthinkable! I had to finish developing the form of my poem in a way that allowed my main character and the subject of his painting to shine. I had to give it not only emotional depth, but a ringing structure and musicality.

Finally it was time to go, and I printed out my poem. I arrived a half hour early and looked at it again: a couple of lines needed to be shifted around. I needed better similes and well-timed rhymes here and there. The ending needed to be stronger. I quickly scribbled some edits. When would I be sure I had achieved my purpose?

The time to read my poem titled “Plein Aire Poppies” came soon enough and I shared with my audience my desire to write something that resonated with their painting process. I told them it was a work in progress. To my surprise, it was more successful than I had expected: my audience’s eyes stayed fixed on me and their heads bobbed in reassurance that they “got it.”

The best part of the experience was paying attention to Natalia Andreeva’s presentation. In a gentle, unassuming way, she did several diagrammatic sketches of possible flower arrangements to illustrate her thought process before she actually started to paint. She sprayed her canvas and paints and began to throw some colors on the blank page to mark the space where the images she had in mind would appear. I watched in horror as some colors dripped down the white space and she didn’t bother to clean them up. As her audience moved around to get a better look at her work, Natalia laughed at the questions about her lack of control of the medium. She shared her philosophy for creating a likeness of the flowers we were looking at in a relaxed and playful manner. The drips gave texture to the background; the dirty water she used to rinse her brush in produced muddled colors that helped underscore the brightness of a particular flower; mistakes produced surprising results that could be used to make the finish product brighter, deeper, more nuanced.

I recently spent a delightful couple of hours at the Winter Park Paint Out event at the Albin Polasek Museum and Sculpture Gardens in Winter Park, Florida. I had been invited to read a poem of my own creation before the start of a plein aire (outdoors) watercolor painting demonstration with Russian artist Natalia Andreeva titled “Blossoms in the Breeze.”

Listening to Natalia and watching the evolution of her painting I related it to my own creative process. The difference was that she thoroughly enjoyed each part of it and I anguished to make sure everything fell into place the way I wanted it. She had fun through the whole process. I had fun through much of it and struggled more than necessary with perceived errors and lack of control over my work. I made a list of her instructions and promised myself I would apply them to my own craft.

·       Observe your subject

·       Determine the shapes in the composition before you start painting

·       Approach with humility and joy

·       Preserve the important bright colors—don’t overwork them

·       Let go of the need to control

·       Let the paint do what it will: it adds character, nuance, personality

·       Add contrast

·       Go from light to dark

·       Enjoy the process

·       There's a perfect brush for each stroke

·       Empty space may have more value than the busy space

·       A distracting background takes away from the subject

·       Refine for balance in the composition

·       Don't be afraid, you can always wash, refine.

·       It's important to have fun and enjoy the process

·       Don't worry about the dirty water: use it to dull what doesn't need to shine

·       A dark background brings out the brightness and delicate characteristics of the subject

·       Don't try to control the drips that get out of hand: they develop into something surprising, mysterious, enriching

·       Varnish your work after you decide it's done

·       Fun and joy are the essence of the work

You can learn more about Natalia and her work at https://www.andreeva.com/.

Here’s a fragment of my poem. The ending suggests I was already a good disciple of Natalia Andreeva. I hope her insights enrich your own life’s work!

Plein Aire Poppies

Last night I dreamt of painting you

or rather, my memories of our devotion.

It’s been a while since I painted

and I trembled at the notion.

. . .

I want to picture your gaze, your peace, your joy,

the clear nutmeg your eyes express,

the light burnt sienna of your latte skin,

the exact vermillion of your dress.

We were young then, serene, untroubled,

and the poppies in your hold

were the exact shade of our burning love:

delicate, translucent, bold.

. . .

Will my colors flow the same way

your artless smile did that primal day?

Will I liberate my captive ambition

to paint my grieving heart’s vision?

Regrets blinding me to your likeness,

I meekly surrender to the practice.