‘Catch me if you can’

Musings on painting landscapes live after seeing the works of Canadian painter Rae Johnson at Christopher Cutts Gallery, Toronto.

Painting from life holds a peculiarity that oscillates between knowing and not knowing what you are painting or where you are while doing so. As an artist yields to drifting tones, hues of clouds and changing reflections in the water, abstract visions beg the paintbrush to surrender to a wild dance while details playfully taunt ‘catch me if you can’.

In a moment, the eye snaps back to reality and attention refocuses on the concrete nature of the subject at hand. There was after all, an initial intention to capture the scene on a limited expanse of canvas. 

Recognizing then reassigning the parameters of a vast landscape requires a stylized discipline, proportionately unique to every individual. Perspective and points of reference must find balance between subconscious day dreaming and the wild brush waltz. The most beautiful results are often unearthed when control contends with enthusiasm, settling in composed chaos.

This back and forth game of tag is a rush of excitement and exasperation that I am quite fond of.  Brush strokes seem to chase patterns in the sky that will never linger, passionately desperate to share every luscious detail the viewer is trying to absorb beyond their own eyelids. Who could possibly manage to ingest an entire sunset?

Natural details dissipate and one must come back to earth, remember the mission to deliver the moment and make it believable. 

Outlines are jotted in to allude to what is necessary but before long those clouds have become more glorious than before and the artist, distracted, is dancing with their paintbrush once more, flirting ambitiously with a moment that was never truly theirs to hold on to.