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RANDOM RAMBLINGS
A Tale
of Two Pack Trips
Up at Thousand Island Lake in the Sierra.
It
has been a summer of pack mules and horses. Of high altitude painting, frost
covered dawns, sunlight on granite, nylon tents and down sleeping bags,
campfires and laughter, box wine and hearty camp fare, bears, camaraderie, and
even a few more bears.
I
went on two pack trips over a five week period- one to the Spanish Peaks
Wilderness of Montana and the other to Garnet Lake in the eastern Sierra of California- a
gauntlet of travel and studies which will turn into studio paintings over the
winter. These pack trips are essential to my painting. As in most arts,
creation is a distillation of experience. As I find myself completely at home
in the Sierra (it is mid-September as I write this and snow is predicted
tomorrow,) the beauty and gothic qualities of the high country constantly fuel
my need to express some inherent truth of these places in pigment and canvas.
So,
paint boxes are packed on mules, hours spent on horseback, and a summer passes-
leaving in its wake an alluvial fan of experiences, memories, and sketches. Now
it is time to get in the studio and hone these rough rocks into something true.
The travel has left me tired. Admittedly, it is hard to get the trail dust out
of my blood and settle into the steady, uneventful cadence of studio work.
There is no risk of my easel kicking me, no wind to turn my canvas into a sail,
and my pot belly stove determines my weather. But, it is time to get to work.
In quoting Ernest Hemingway, I substitute the word “writing” with “painting.”
“In
going where you have to go, and doing what you have to do, and seeing what you
have to see, you dull and blunt the instrument you paint with. But I would
rather have it bent and dull and know I had to put it on the grindstone again
and hammer it into shape and put a whetstone to it, and know I had something to
truly paint, than to have it bright and shining and nothing to say, or smooth
and well-oiled in the closet, but unused. Now, it is necessary to get to the
grindstone again.”
And to the
grindstone I go. I hope you enjoy the photos from my travels.
Charles
9/07
Russell Case, Tracy
and Matt Smith, our cook Pat, Kate Starling, me, Joe Wayne, Greg Scheibel, Kristina,
and our guide, Lee Hart up in the Spanish Peaks Wilderness of Montana.
Trying to squeeze 2000
feet of rock into 16 inches high above Thompson Lake in Montana.
Lee Hart, our guide in
Montana, striking the classic
cowboy pose. A teller of many
tales- of grizzlies, crazy Italians, and deep snow drifts, all woven into the
landscape of the Spanish Peaks Wilderness.
Working down
switchbacks in some damn steep country!

Armand Cabrera, Dr. Jim Hongola, David Linn,
Charles Waldman, Ned Mueller, Spanky the Wonder Dog, and me at Garnet Lake in
the high Sierra.
(And a pesky bear
courtesy of Photoshop!)
Painting the afternoon
light at Garnet Lake.
Our pack guide and
Sierra cook Lianne and her trusty dog Spanky. Spanky rousted the bears out of
camp on a nightly basis and kept the pack animals in line.
Ned Mueller and I
enjoying a cold libation chilled in the depths of Garnet Lake.
You gotta love those
Sierra pack outfits- “you want it, we pack it” seems to be their motto.
Charles Waldman
telling tall tales after the morning painting. What a fine group of artists and
traveling companions. A lot of good stories- Ned telling about how it feels to
be kicked by a Brahma bull in Mexico City was a fun one.
The Undiscovered
Sierra Riviera.
OK, it is not all
work! I took the midday off to enjoy some
late summer sun, high country majesty, and trashy gossip magazines Lianne
brought on the trip. Quality time doing nothing…
Thoughts on Dixon Country
Well,
my paintings for Maynard Dixon Country
2006 are done and drying. The hard part is over. It took four research and
painting trips to the “Lonely Sierra” region of Bishop and Lone Pine to figure
out what I wanted to say in paint. Now I can look forward to the fun of the
event- good camaraderie, good scenery, and good paintings.
The
highlight of last year's event, however, was the presence of Daniel Dixon who
spoke of his father and mother, Maynard Dixon and Dorothea Lange. His quiet
humor and insight added a new depth to the understanding of both artists. Also,
he's quite the singer and ukulele player! This is another aspect to this event
which separates it from all others. There is a strong emphasis on simply having fun and
taking in the art found in experience. There are transient masterpieces created around a fire with song and
wine. The below photographs only touch the surface of the fun and camaraderie
which is the essence of Maynard Dixon Country. It's one hell-of-a event!
WWW.THUNDERBIRDFOUNDATION.COM
(Left to Right) Artist Chris Morel, Robin Arnold, Dixie and Dan Dixon. Dan's wife Dixie plays a mean guitar as well and sings wonderfully.
The singing and laughing went on both Friday and Saturday into the wee
hours of the morning. They are memories for a lifetime. Dan recalled songs his
father enjoyed and sang them with raspy gusto:
Meet me tonight in Dreamland, Under the silvery moon;
Meet me tonight in Dreamland, Where love's true roses bloom. Come with the love light shining
In your sweet eyes of blue; Meet me in Dreamland, Sweet dreamy Dreamland, And make my dreams come true.
Dan plinking away at his Ukulele with Robin Arnold.
Daniel told us of a song Maynard was fond of singing to his children.
Maynard would sing to them while popping his false teeth in and out. Daniel
said it was his Dad’s own immortal composition. When I read the lyrics I can
hear Daniel’s ukulele and his laughter
serving as a coda to the final line.
Gum Drops
Papa had gum drops And baby had none;
Papa had gum drops And gave baby one. At three in the morning When babe sleeps no more,
Then Papa takes baby And paces the floor Too-ra-lay
Too-ra-loo No more gum drops for baby, For you, just a few!
To
experience Daniels recollections of the past while enjoying the crackling fire,
songs, and laughter of the present helped to create and understanding of
Maynard Dixon that could never be expressed through books or even in paint.
Thank
you, Daniel for a wonderful evening. I hope to see you around the campfire this
August.
Charles
July
2006
Daniel
wrote this in my copy of his book of recollections on his mother and father-
THE THUNDERBIRD REMEMBERED
Maynard Dixon, the Man and the Artist
Ediza Lake Pack Trip 2005
Kate Starling, Jesse
Powell, Kathleen Dunphy, Chuck Waldman, Mike Obermeyer, Armand Cabrera, Jeff
Fennel, Me, and Russell Case.
This was,
simply put, one damn fun trip! I organized this pack/painting excursion to
further explore the Sierra while enjoying the camaraderie of painting with
fellow artists. Having participated in many plein air events, the aspect which I
find most beneficial is learning and sharing experiences with other artists. We
spend so much time painting in seclusion that painting together on location is uplifting and inspiring. Unfortunately,
sometimes these events can be a bit stressful (can you say “Quick Draw?!”) Also, Plein Air shows are so
ubiquitous these days that I fully expect to see “South Barstow Plein Air” being
advertised in the coming months. Several of my clients have remarked how
confusing all of these shows and organizations are becoming.
So, I planned
this trip with the thought of doing nothing more than getting out there and
slinging paint. We hiked our tails off and
painted like fiends. From this trip we will create studio paintings for future
shows and our galleries. Sometimes, the simple aspect of using plein air
painting as a tool, a means to gather information by making studies
which will be used to create greater works in the studio, gets lost in the business end of making a living
creating paintings. As artists, we barely scratched the surface of
painting possibilities and I plan on returning next year. Below are
some photos from the trip.
Charles
8/10/05
Ediza Lake.
Painting Banner Peak near the Iceberg Lake outlet.
Apache Joe
10” x 12”
A portrait of “Apache
Joe” painted on a gray morning.
This was the first time painting a horse.
Prix
de West here I come! Wait, did I write that out loud???
Kate Starling perched
on a rock with Mt. Ritter looming above.
Chuck Waldman
providing a cool soundtrack to the trip.
Moments
like these are the living art which envelopes the creation of art.

Tired
and Ornery
8"
x 5"
Mike
Obermeyer sketched this mini-portrait of me while we waited, and waited, for the
pack mules to bring our stuff off the mountain.
I
guess I should have just been glad all those supplies were not on my back!
The motley crew around
the campfire.
A lot of bad jokes
were told around this fire!
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Moments of Universal Truth
Bison, from La Madeleine
near Dordogne. C. 15,000-10,000
B.C. Reindeer Antler.
Part of my
life here in Markleeville involves driving off the mountain periodically to get
the basic provisions needed to survive- slabs of salt pork, powder for the
musket, weasel pelts, and gallons of rot gut bathtub gin. Perhaps I exaggerate.
I usually make a couple of trips a week to the Carson Valley to ship paintings,
get groceries, ink cartridges, blank CDs, sushi, and yes, the occasional weasel
pelt. As I drive through the valley, I take in the bucolic tranquility which
lies nestled below the northern Sierra range. Cattle graze throughout most of
the valley and on any given trip I will see some of them licking their
flanks. This movement is so natural to the animal and intrinsic to the very
nature of being a cow. It reminds me of the above sculpture I first saw in art
history class in college. I have always admired this piece of art for its pure
expression and truth. In my article in the May issue of Plein Air Magazine, (shameless plug!) I ramble on how artists are “trying to capture those glints of universal truths sometimes
revealed during instances of time and express them in a manner unique to us as
individuals.” And man, this sculpture from the Paleolithic era
nails that concept! I guarantee the next time you see an a cow in this pose, you will think of this work.
The subtlety of expression in this piece of
carved deer antler is what makes it inherently beautiful. It is also what is
missing in so much or our popular culture.
Charles
4/27/05
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The Art of a Party
My subject for this first entry is the Art of a Party. Properly timed and well
planned, a truly artful party has the potential for greatness. I’m not talking
about a high school kegger, but an event that allows for the possibility of
immediate fun and lasting memories. Parties, like fire, can be started easily
and only marginally controlled. Steinbeck describes this masterfully in Cannery
Row:
“The
nature of parties has been imperfectly studied. It is, however, generally
understood that a party has a pathology, that it is a kind of individual and it
is likely to be a very perverse individual. And it is also generally understood
that a party hardly ever goes the way it is intended…”
My
neighbor, Jeff Brees, and I planned Freezing Man to be in the dead of winter-
an homage to the season, a time to drink wine and celebrate everything and
nothing in particular- and a chance to burn something. Jeff is a sculptor who
has created topiaries for Fisherman’s Wharf, the San Diego Zoo, etc.http://www.gardenworkstopiary.com.
He created our defiant answer to months of ice and snow with an arc welder and
a vision. We then fleshed him out with intertwining pine branches and a late
winter storm added the finishing touches. Word spread through town quickly and as
one old timer put it, “This will be the biggest thing to happen in Markleeville
since they shot Jacob Marklee!”
My
wee nephews came to visit along with friends and family. Sleeping bags lined
the floors. The party took life, burned brightly, and slowly fell to ashes in
the morning hours as wine soaked minds discussed politics and tried to sing
songs in front of the embers and bowed metal skeleton of Freezing Man.
Perhaps it will be an annual event. A light snow is already
delicately covering the memories of the party- the imprints of lawn chairs, the shuffling trails of adults, wine stains in the snow like melted roses,
sled drags, paw marks of dogs, and the tiny dancing boot prints of my nephews.
But the ringing echoes of conversation and laughter will filter through the
pine needles for many winters.
As
an artist, I never leave the world of art because there is art in everything.
But, from time to time, it’s good to take a break from the business of art.
Charles
2/04 |