Ashokan High Point, Spring

“Ashokan High Point”, oil on canvas © 2020 D. Yael Bernhard

This is my favorite time of year for landscape painting. Here in the Catskill Mountains, the first week of May brings a panoply of colors. All these subtle shades of budding trees and plants trigger something in my brain. The fine, flowery textures make the trees look weightless, as if articulated by a paintbrush. Driving these rural roads, I almost feel like I’m traveling through a painting.

As a landscape painter, my job is to capture what we all see and feel in the spring air – the cool, expansive breeze and sunlit growth of new life. Everything is brimming with potential. If only I had more free time to paint this fleeting transformation! I’m grateful, however, for whatever I can do.

Ashokan High Point, Spring was painted en plein air from the rail trail, newly built at the time along the Ashokan Reservoir, which gathers water from the Catskill Mountain watershed for New York City. I tried to get there early, and tucked myself in the weeds along the gravel path, trying to avoid inquisitive dogs and strolling couples who inevitably stop along the trail to peer at my work. I don’t like it when my art is viewed unfinished, but people can’t seem to resist the urge to look. I don’t blame them – I’d probably do the same thing – and try to be patient and friendly, and not to feel embarrassed by how odd the image looks in progress. I settled myself in as comfortably as I could among the wild plants growing along the water’s edge, and got to work.

Landscape painting in this region means articulating deciduous trees through the patient building up of textures. To convey a carpet of forest, one’s brushstrokes must overlap just so, and diminish in scale in order to suggest distance. It takes time, and doesn’t crystallize into the desired tapestry until nearly done. Juxtapose these textures with the dark silhouettes of pines, the smooth gradients of water, the stately silhouette of a mountain, and the whisper of high clouds, and the eye is thoroughly satisfied by this visual feast.

It was a glorious day, and the pastel hues were singing to each other. As usual, I ran out of time and had to finish the painting at home. This canvas is about three feet wide, much too big to complete in one sitting.

I didn’t keep this painting for long, as I soon traded it with my art-loving dentist for a new crown. I think we both got a good deal, and gave something of value. For both of us, there’s more where that came from. I’m grateful for the exchange.

I might go back to the rail trail this year and paint the same scene again – this time smaller, perhaps in gouache. Working on a smaller scale on paper is a different experience, as the paper itself can suggest the texture of the land. Normally I would start with sketches and small color studies before doing a larger painting on canvas – but there’s nothing wrong with working the other way around. Like hiking a favorite trail each year, returning to a painting subject allows me to perceive my own evolution as an artist, and notice the changes within myself from year to year. In that sense, a good subject is inexhaustible.

A good week to all!

D. Yael Bernhard

https://dyaelbernhard.com

Have you seen my other Substack, The Art of Health? In addition to being a visual artist, I’m also a certified integrative health & nutrition coach with a lifelong passion for natural food cooking and herbal medicine. Now in its second year, this illustrated newsletter explores cutting-edge concepts of nutrition. I strive to make relevant information clear and accessible, and to anchor essential health concepts in unique images. Check it out, and if you like it, please subscribe and help spread the word. Your support keeps my work going!