Local Color

by Mimi Robinson

  • Next, what color do you see least of? What proportion of the scene does each color take up? Notice how color takes on different forms—a version of gray may present itself as cloud, granite, or bark. Notice the feeling of the brush in your hand as it moves across the paper. As I am painting, I often think, “In through my eyes and out through my hand.”

  • Shift your perspective. If you are sitting, do a color palette while standing; if you are standing, try one sitting. What differences do you see?

  • Begin a color library of your local habitat, cataloging the spectrum of colors and how they change throughout the seasons.

  LIGHT

  Light gives birth to color. Notice where light lives—on the facade of a building, on the back of a bird flying through the sky, in a sunflower tracing the path of the sun. Some colors are naturally light in feeling (yellow) and others are dark (purple, ultramarine blue). Light colors seem to float, while darker colors feel rooted.

  Light changes subtly as the sun shifts with the time of day and the seasons. My favorite times to catch the color of a place are in the early morning, later afternoon, and at sunset, when colors take on more depth. Low in the sky, the sun sends out a warm golden glow and the long shadows add rhythm and texture. Summer days are wonderful for painting outdoors because of the long hours and abundance of light.

  PRACTICE

  • Paint a series of palettes at the same time each day—either the first hour of light after sunrise or the last hour of light before sunset (both called the “golden hour”). In the city, observe the color in the shadows cast by the buildings. Work quickly, as the light changes fast. Try to capture the patterns of light and dark. Don’t worry if you don’t get it right—it will come back again tomorrow.

  • Track color throughout the day, making a connection to the rotation of the earth. Be aware of warm and cool tones and the interplay of light and shadow. Select a simple view and create palettes at early morning, midday, and evening. On a sunny day, colors are typically warmer in the morning and shift to cool as the sun arcs overhead, then back to warm as the sun is setting. Even on foggy or cloudy days, you can sense a brightening and the movement of the sun.

  WEATHER

  Imagine a hot, dry sun in the desert, a blizzard in Chicago, or spring rain along the coast. Rain, snow, sleet, sun, wind—how do they change what you see in a place?

  During a winter storm in Inverness, California, rain, mist, and fog soften the view, creating muted notes of harmonious color. This is the day to paint wet on wet. Painting with more water can capture the feeling of a rainy day, accentuating place and mood. The light is soft and the colors run together. There are no edges.

  In New York City, I expect to paint monochromatic cityscapes but wake up to deep snow. Today, the world is brilliant white, blue, and purple. Bright sun brings out the color and the contrasts: the inky black of tree bark and branch against white snow. Water towers have little white triangular snow hats. I see drifts of snow and the yellow blur of taxis.

  PRACTICE

  • See if you can capture the mood of the day’s weather through your colors. Paint during rain, snow, fog, and sun and compare the differences. How do different weather conditions create a new set of colors to observe and paint?

  SEASONS

  Years are marked by time and the shift of seasons as the Earth travels around the sun. On a cold dark February evening, I look at vibrant color palettes I created on a summer day sitting on a rock in the Sierra Nevada Mountains, and I can almost feel the warmth and light of that moment.

  Each season has its own colors, and places have their own seasons. Making seasonal color palettes encourages you to consider time in a different way—in rotations around the sun rather than around the clock.

  Above: Peak fall foliage in the Wisconsin woods.

  Right: Spring hillside at Point Reyes.

  PRACTICE

  • Immerse yourself in one season. What are the colors that come to life in this season, in this light? Are colors brightening or fading? Every few days or weeks, make a palette of a scene or object that speaks to you of this season. It could be a bright new apple in fall, the view out your window in winter, or the sharp green growth of spring.

  • Track a year in color, creating a color palette for each season. When you’re done, look at the palettes together: How did the colors change with the seasons and the different effects of weather and intensities of light? What colors emerged in each new season as flowers bloomed and faded, grasses grew and died, snow or rain came and went?

  SEASONS: A YEAR IN COLOR

  As an experiment, I decided to chart the colors of the specific landscape of Point Reyes over a period of a year to see what I might learn. I asked myself, How do colors change with the seasons and with the different effects of weather and intensities of light? What are the color relationships in the spring, when the hills are blanketed with the intense velvet green of new growth? Or in January, when the rising ocean mists and clear nights illuminate the hibernating grassland? What colors emerge from the parade of wildflowers? How are the colors of this place different from those of other places?

  CHAPTER FOUR

  World Color: Travel Journeys

  As I’ve traveled the world, I’ve come to realize that I can take the process of observing place with me wherever I go. I slow down and become receptive to what I see, hear, and smell. In each location I visit, I wonder, what is the spirit of this place? And whether I am painting in my own backyard, on the edge of the ocean, in a small pueblo in Mexico, in the mountains of Kyrgyzstan, or in a corner of Portland, Oregon, I find that the active process of observing color and creating color palettes grounds me and allows me to engage with each unique place in a more substantial way.

  ANTIGUA, GUATEMALA

  There is no fear of color in Guatemala. I am often amazed by the vast array of colors that I never thought would work together but somehow do here: olive green and hot pink, coral and turquoise blue, lilac and chartreuse, indigo and electric green.

  Situated in a highland valley and nestled beside three volcanoes, Agua, Acatenango, and Fuego, Antigua is one of the best-preserved colonial cities in Central America. If you are lucky and look long enough, you can see a cloud of smoke escape from one of the active mountains. The morning mist hangs pale violet and gray on their sides. Colorful buildings are painted in a lively variety of bright pastels, tangerines, sun-drenched yellows, and cerulean blues.

  LAKE ATITLÁN, GUATEMALA

  Lake Atitlán is a volcanic lake in the western highlands, a mile above sea level, that seems to float in the sky. It is considered one of the deepest lakes in the world. In the Mayan language, Atitlán translates as “place where the rainbow gets its colors.”

  Under a clear sky and bright sun, the dark blue of deep water shifts to lighter values in the shallows. Closer to the shore, where the clay gets stirred by the tide and the sunlight shines back off the seaweed, light-green and gray tones emerge.

  PÁTZCUARO, MEXICO

  Pátzcuaro, a designated World Heritage Site, is located in the central part of the Mexican state of Michoacán and is situated high in the mountains at an elevation of 7,130 feet. Pátzcuaro, which means “place of stones” in the Purépecha language, is a small colonial town that has retained its authentic character. With very little intervention from tourism, it feels as if the town has gone back in time.

  The day here starts early with the ringing of church bells. There is a symphony of birdcalls, the clacking of carts going down the cobblestone streets toward the market, and the smell of fresh tortillas.

  Sitting in the central zocalo, the “public square or plaza,” with my paints, I experience the gentle rhythm of the town as it wakes. I begin to record the colors of the early morning light as it shifts across the buildings: rosy reds, cadmium oranges, and every shade of warm brown.

  The predominant colors in Pátzcuaro are highlighted by its architecture. A sea of terra-cotta roof tiles catches the light and ca
sts a warm glow that is punctuated by the whitewashed buildings, which are set against the blue sky and the purple mountains rising in the distance.

  LUXOR, EGYPT

  Luxor is the home of the ancient city of Thebes, located along the Nile River. During an early morning visit to the Temple of Hatshepsut in the Valley of the Queens, the sun beats down, blazing hot, accentuating the sharp contrast between land and sky. The color of sand and sun seems to define everything, reminding me that I am standing on the edge of the great Sahara Desert.

  Contrasted against the browns of the hillside is a jumbled mosaic of dwellings saturated with bright colors. These naturally occurring pigments, extracted from locally found minerals and oxides, define the color of this valley. All around me I see the six basic pigments that early Egyptian artists used to create their palettes: red, green, blue, yellow, black, and white. The colors held many symbolic meanings, and as each object was painted, it was imbued with significance through color. Blues represented water, sky, and the celestial heavens, while yellow signified the sun and eternal life.

  THE DEAD SEA, JORDAN

  The Dead Sea, which sits at 1,300 feet below sea level, has the lowest elevation on Earth. Being this close to the planet’s deep mineral and salt deposits, it is one of the saltiest lakes in the world. The salt content is so high (nearly ten times more concentrated than most of the world oceans) you can float effortlessly in it.

  As the sun begins to set over the water, I attempt a color palette. Even at this time of day, the heat is so intense I have to work fast before the watercolors dry.

  The colors of the Dead Sea at dusk are dull and don’t reflect light: the muted gray sulfur of land, amber water, and the delicate muted hues of salt-encrusted rocks.

  PETRA, JORDAN

  Petra is perhaps the most spectacular ancient city remaining in the modern world. It gets its name from the Greek word petros, meaning “rock,” and is carved out of sandstone cliffs that rise out of the desert.

  I arrive in the predawn hours and stay until dusk, watching the colors change throughout the day. The pale yellows of early morning shift to rosy reds in the midday sun. In the early evening, as the shadows lengthen, the colors flare into purples, deep yellows, golds, and browns. At dusk, the temples, tombs, and obelisks in the area seem to hold onto the day, glowing in the lingering light.

  My Petra paint box represents the sands of time, with colors of fine sand ranging from off-white to dusty red, and from ochre to violet.

  LAKE ISSYK-KUL, KYRGYZSTAN

  Kyrgyzstan, in Central Asia, has been well known since the times of the legendary Silk Road. It’s a land of monumental scale, characterized by the deep blues and purples of distant mountains, snow-capped peaks, and the vast sand-colored horizon. Looking at the mountain heights and endless steppes, I understand how the immensity of this land has forged the Kyrgyz nomadic character and spirit and influenced their art and culture.

  On the shores of Lake Issyk-Kul, at the base of the Tien Shan Mountains, I spend the night at a yurt encampment set up temporarily for the summer months and marvel at the starry night sky.

  Artisans in Kyrgyzstan are famous for their felt-making traditions. Sitting in a yurt one afternoon, I spend time with the women as they make shyrdak (patchwork) rugs—singing, laughing, and sewing together. The colorful felt creations are a harmonious blend of rich, warm reds, oranges, and purples with accents of magenta, colors that reflect the Kyrgyz culture and their everyday world.

  NEWPORT, PENNSYLVANIA

  I have vivid memories of my grandmother’s farm in central Pennsylvania—summer days lush with green vegetation and humid summer heat. There, as a child, I spent time with my family in “Sharon’s Orchard,” which was planted during the Depression, first as an apple orchard and then later with peaches. Sitting on the front porch with my grandmother, mother, and aunts, I helped prepare applesauce and peach preserves for the winter months ahead. Elberta, Hale Haven, and Belle of Georgia peaches were some of my grandmother’s favorite varieties, along with Cortland and Jonathan apples.

  Now, on cold and snowy nights, I can pull out a container of peach preserves and drift through memories of long, green summer days; images of ripe orange, red, pink, and yellow peaches; old farm baskets and crates to measure out a bushel, half a bushel, or a peck; and walks through the orchard’s craggy trees, heavy with ripe peaches, set against the green, brown, and tan Pennsylvania land.

  BARNEY’S JOY, MASSACHUSETTS

  In South Dartmouth, a small coastal town in southeastern New England, a stretch of land called Barney’s Joy sits along a cove on Buzzards Bay. The landscape includes salt marsh, coastal beach, sandplain grassland, and coastal heath. Where the ocean meets the sky, it is blue with warm tones of granite gray, like stones weathered by the sea.

  On the beach, one finds quahog shells, jingle shells (affectionately called mermaid’s toenails by pirates), mussel shells, and horseshoe crabs, all with their beautiful notes of colors. I love to make color palettes of the endless variations of shells, each one different and unique. I am especially inspired by the blue quahog shells of the Atlantic and all of their shades of indigo.

  SACRED VALLEY, PERU

  Located in the Andes Mountains, the Urubamba Valley is also known as the Sacred Valley of the Incas. Ancient ruins are situated throughout the gentle mountain slopes and scattered farming towns. The Incas favored this place for its specific geography and climate, which are perfectly suited to agriculture.

  In early spring, as the ground begins to thaw, new colors of the season emerge throughout the region. The Urubamba landscape ranges from brownish ochre on the granite cliffs to lush green grass in the hills. The distant blue of snow-capped mountains lends a sense of mystery to this ancient place. Here I can feel the deep connection that the indigenous people have to their land. It is reflected in the construction of their homes, the fabrics they weave, the clothes they wear, and the food they eat.

  Llamas and alpacas roam through the terraced terrain, their coats ranging in shades of browns, creams, and whites that blend perfectly with the natural environment.

  DOMINICA, WEST INDIES

  Dominica, officially known as the Commonwealth of Dominica, is a small island nation at the northern end of the Windward Islands of the Lesser Antilles region of the Caribbean Sea. A paradise known for its unspoiled natural beauty, the island of Dominica features volcanic peaks; dense, primordial rainforest; waterfalls and lakes; and numerous rivers. It is home to many rare plant, animal, and bird species.

  Dominica gets an extraordinary amount of rain. A Dominican rainstorm is like being in the middle of a painting, drenched in water and color. Clouds mix with sky as they merge and dance across the horizon, soaking up water from the many rivers and hovering around the highest peaks, obscuring views and shrouding the island in a luminescent mist.

  ISLE OF SKYE, SCOTLAND

  The Isle of Skye, also known as the Eilean a’ Cheo (Gaelic for “island of mist”), lies off the west coast of Scotland. At the base of the Cullin Hills, a craggy mountain range that dominates the landscape of the small harbor of Portree, I sit for a while and take in the quality of light and color. Bright light sparkles off the blazing blues of the curved harbor. The tide stretches back into the choppy water of the sea, laying bare a long and rocky stretch of sand. In this fresh August morning in the northern latitudes beneath this blend of cool mist and warm sun, I feel somehow closer to the sky.

  The Isle of Skye is a mixture of azure blue sky, white and violet clouds, and silver mist over the greens and browns of heather.

  INVERNESS, SCOTLAND

  Scotland has a rich agricultural and farming legacy, which is evident everywhere in the hedgerows and stone walls that divide the landscape and reveal the history of the land.

  During a late summer afternoon, sitting in a freshly mowed hay field, I see infinite shades of green, giving a warm tint to the meadows. Heath blooms throughout the summer months and clusters around rocky outcroppings, fr
aming the landscape in shades of pink and purple against dark greens.

  Observing a place in this way, through color, can reveal surprising details that might otherwise go overlooked. I can’t believe all that goes on in a meadow.

  MITCHELL, OREGON

  The Painted Hills in central Oregon show you the colors of ancient time. These layers of striped sediment were laid down more than thirty-five million years ago, when the Cascade Volcanoes spewed layers of volcanic ash over a series of eruptions across hundreds of miles, stretching across parts of British Columbia, Washington, Oregon, and Northern California. Over time, the lava and ash mixed with plants, minerals, and groundwater, to leave the distinct marks of each period of this distant time.

  Differences in weathering and mineral content display themselves in a striking show of colorful stripes. Vivid reds, yellow, pale gold, and green are laced with streaks of black magnesium. Blue hills fade to purple under the vast sky. Sagebrush dots the landscape and perfumes the air. A cloud forms overhead, and the colors soften. Caught in a light rain, the colors become more saturated and intense as clay soil absorbs the moisture.

  The trails within the Painted Hills, part of John Day Fossil Beds National Monument, wind around and through the soft, undulating mounds of this ochre-and sienna-colored earth. I love painting the varying stripes of color that trace the folds of the hills, plateaus, and basin. For me, this simple act of recording colors in a sketchpad is the best way to really see a place, be present with it, and make it my own.

  NEW YORK, NEW YORK

  From a distance, New York City can appear as a black-and-white film with subtle colors: glittering asphalt sidewalks, walls of reflective glass and steel, silver skyscrapers, purple skylines, elegant shades of gray, black, brown, and brick red, and the colors of grit, soot, and steam. It is up close on the street, however, that it explodes with splashes of vibrant, unpredictable color: bright metal food carts, precarious piles of bananas, plastic turquoise bangles, and bouquets of flowers sold in corner stores. Neon street signs, yellow taxis, and the people all add to the local color.