Diary of a Residency, Day 10, February 25, 2009

It was a great day of painting. So great I forgot to photograph what I did.

The desert has its own demands. Yesterday at about 5 PM I photographed and looked closely at today’s scene (approximately what is in the photo above.) But in looking at the scene around 10 AM today, I decided not to wait for the evening shadows, but to paint it while the sun was relatively high. It seemed to have more clarity then. I started painting about 11. By 1 PM or so, the shadows were perfect — just sufficient to show the relief, but not so strong or long or harsh so as to conceal the details. By the time the good shadows appeared, I had blocked in the scene, had enough paint on the board to cover it, and could concentrate on the relief of the mountain, shown by the slightly westering sun.

Unfortunately, I didn’t photograph it. And tomorrow, it’s downtown Beatty day for painting, so it will be a couple of days before I can document what I did on this glorious day.

Conditions were perfect; I changed from my turtle neck to my painting shirt because it was so warm; the wind kept me cool in the hot sun; my hat worked so well I didn’t need sunglasses, and I had no distractions (no visitors….)

I had to find the right spot to paint, of course, which took me an hour or so. I walked northwest, toward the western edge of Bonanza mountain. The thing that makes the painting work are the utility poles that frame it.

This is the photo of the scene, with my cart ready to set up. The cairn/obo that I used to mark the spot when I decided on it (in my initial foray without the cart ) can be seen just to the left and a bit above the creosote bush in front center.

What continually stuns me is how inadequate the camera view is for depicting what I am seeing. From my “real” vantage point, the hill to the left of the telephone pole, barely visible in the photo, loomed large; the camera, because of the distances involved, diminishes it to nothing. This is the effect that Erle Loran (Cezanne’s Compositions) documents with Cezanne’s paintings of Mont Sainte-Victoire. The photographs Loran took show it as a small mound; Cezanne painted it as imposing.

So between contemplating the light, which didn’t require me to rise before dawn or stick around until twilight, and the size of the thing one really sees versus the size the camera shows, I had a good time thinking while I was painting.

I also thought “I look in order to paint; I paint in order to look.” Today was one of those days when I think that the only reason to paint is to permit oneself to look long and close and hard and again and again. The attempt to capture with oil and on board is just the icing on the cake.

I also discovered (and photographed) another cactus — different, I think, from the barrel cactus and the prickly pear and the cholla. ( I needed to look these up to make sure I’m naming them correctly — and spelling the names correctly, too — it’s like looking and looking again).

I also discovered some bricks. I found the absence of bricks in these ghost towns almost as fascinating as the presence of rusting tin and broken glass. But there were bricks, at the Red Barn, near the jail.

The pipe that appears here is the kind of thing that is found everywhere on this desert ghost town environment. These towns were electrified and had city water, installed even as they were about to vanish. Bullfrog was a year or so earlier in formation than Rhyolite, the town up the road with more imposing ghostly structures, but the Barrick Gold Mine owned the Red Barn (sited at the former Bullfrog area) and perhaps used brick in some of its outbuildings.

I took a number of photos of the ruin of the jail, which is the original Bullfrog Jail, used by Rhyolite until it got one of its own. It had two cells, and has a tin addition that looks like it might have been stuck on later. At any rate, it’s picturesque and unlike the mountains, close at hand.

The jail is just behind the Red Barn and supposedly a great habitat for rattlers. Part of my persona depends on my fear of rattlesnakes; everyone has a rattlesnake story, and I’m a great audience for each and every tale. The utility pole is disconnected but it has a Nevada Bell sign on it.

Here’s a little plant  that has sprung up that looks very much like a violet — without the flower. I’m keeping my eye on it.

And here’s the view that I had when I finished the painting about 2 PM. The obo is on the right and the barn just down the hill. It’s good to go downhill at the end of a painting session.

I spent the rest of my day reworking the northeast view of Bonanza Mountain, the one I did late yesterday afternoon. It’s much better now. Working inside the Barn when one is tired and sun-struck is lovely.

Reported from Beatty, Nevada, February 25. UPS says the laptop will be delivered tomorrow.

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