Painting the Ocean - Dream to paint the impossible dream/scene
Have you ever asked yourself, how to paint the ocean?
The ocean has captivated artists for centuries and has compelled so many Great Painters in the past to paint it. It is a subject matter that is so elusive, so magnificent , so overwhelming, that it drives the painter into a mad flurry of desire to capture the fleeting moment, the impossible.
From J. M. W. Turner, (who physically strapped himself to the mast of a ship, to experience first hand, the essence and the power of the raging ocean, to almost feel the colours on his body), to Gustave Courbet’s weighted/turbulent emotional response, to John Singer Sargent and Joaquín Sorolla’s sun glistening wetness. To the impressionists such as Claude Monet and Childe Hassam, capturing that shimmering motion of the ocean to Winslow Homer’s turbulent spray….
The list goes on. And so it must.
My own journey with the ocean began on a trip to Gran Canaria. The island's dramatic coastline, with its volcanic cliffs and turquoise waters, cast a spell on me. The ocean, with its ever-shifting light and movement, became an endless source of inspiration and frustration. I was hooked , mesmerized and I could not get it out of my head. I had to go back. On my second trip to Gran Canaria things fell into place. As an oil painter the ocean holds all the answers in terms of paint application, speed, density of paint , fleeting brushwork and purity of colour. The painters response time is maddening and yes, you constantly have that moment, where you want to throw your hands up in the air, and simply just laugh at the impossibility of painting such grandness, of the tempestuous majesty of the ocean.
Being humbled and inspired all at the same time.
This is plein-air paintng. Isn't it ? This is nature.
As an oil painter, I found myself grappling with the technical challenges of translating the ocean's fluidity and power onto a static canvas. On my first trip I had my favourite blues, cerulean blue, cobalt blue and French ultramarine blue. I was struggling with cerulean blue. The temperature was right but the consistency and opacity was driving me mad. On my second trip I brought along some manganese blue. The transparency when needed and the ease to mix it with other opaque colours was the key to capturing that colour of the Atlantic Ocean, crushing against the volcanic land. I found ultramarine blue too overpowering, and used more Paynes grey mixed with cobalt blue. Ah, the happy combination of density and transparency.
This combination of the opacity/density and transparency/refraction of various oil paint combinations was the solution to capturing the feeling of weight and depth of the ocean while in unison with the subtle soft spray and flow, and at moments an otherworldly reflective transparent glow.
Water/paint it is alchemy synchronized.
The pursuit of painting the ocean is a constant learning process. It's about knowing your subject intimately, studying its every nuance under the open sky. Let nature teach you. Each brushstroke, each attempt, is a step towards a deeper understanding of the oceans raw power.
