Tiny Images, Vast Scenes

The Tempest, Peder Balke, 1862

Peder Balke is not the name of an artist that readily springs to mind, yet he is now considered the pre-eminent Norwegian artist of the 19th century. His landscapes and especially seascapes, highly unusual in their techniques, are now justly celebrated. I was lucky enough to see an exhibition of his paintings at the National Gallery, having seen a smaller one of his work in the same rooms four years ago. Balke lived from 1804-1887, started out as a full-time painter and then had to turn to other ways of earning his living. Nonetheless, he continued to paint, for his own pleasure, experimenting and using paints in ways that heralded modern expressionism. He travelled to the North Cape in Norway, an area of dramatic coastlines and radiantly strange light of the Arctic Circle. These scenes continued to influence him many years later. He did not always paint specific scenes, but used the moods and impressions of nature, often in almost abstract fashion, to convey the majesty, mystery, solitude and power of the natural world.

The Old Bridge, Oil on panel, Peder Balke

Seascape c. 1860, oil on canvas mounted on panel, Peder Balke

While the larger paintings on display in the National Gallery exhibition were impressive, especially the highly atmospheric ones of Northern scenes, done in the 1870s, the ones that fascinate me are the tiny ones. They pack a punch, almost in a visceral way.

Stormy Sea, oil on panel, Peder Balke

Stormy Sea, oil on cardboard, Peder Balke (Image courtesy of Drammens Museum)

They are indeed small, mostly blacks and white, seascapes and some landscapes of glaciers or waterfalls, often almost abstracts. They are not small, however, when it comes to impact. Their effect is perhaps more powerful than that of many of the larger paintings he did. Perhaps my love of monochromatic works leads me to them, but to me, they are stunning in their big voices coming from very small rectangles of oil on cardboard or oil on board.

Northern Lights, 1870s, Peder Balke

Norther Lights over Coastal Landscape, c. 1870, oil on panel, Peder Balke

Peder Balke

Sun breaking through the Clouds at Vardohus, 1860-1870s, oil on panel, Private Collection

The Tempest, oil on panel, Peder Balke

Seascape, Peder Balke

I wonder if other people find them as arresting as I do?

Joaquín Sorolla and the Sea – Part II

My last blog post was on Joaquín Sorolla's approach to plein air painting, after I saw the CaixaForum exhibition, "The Colour of the Sea" in Palma de Mallorca. His "Colour Notes" are so fresh and searching, so bold and gestural, that I sometimes felt that the resultant paintings, in which this carefully observed material was incorporated, lost a little in impact. Nonetheless, the exhibition shows beautifully how Sorolla, set up on the beach in very practical painting fashion, was ever-intent on capturing the endless changes of the seascapes. His meticulous studies of the different hues of blue, for instance, show his passion for capturing the limpid colours of the sea, the play of light on the waves or on bodies in the water, their diversity of tone. Yes, he was basing all his art on Nature, in a realistic fashion, but he certainly was breaking down what he saw into the most abstract of shapes and compositions.

Young Yachtsman, 1909, oil on canvas, oil on canvas, Joaquín Sorolla (Image courtesy of Museo Sorolla)

Sea and Rocks, Javea, 1900, oil on canvas, oil on canvas, Joaquín Sorolla (Image courtesy of Museo Sorolla)

The Sea, (Javea), 1905, oil on cardboard, Joaquín sorolla, (Image courtesy of Museo Sorolla)

Look, for instance, at the Young Swimmers. Their skin underwater becomes a shimmer of alabasters floating in this energy-filled abstraction of green ripples and dancing light.

Swimmers (Javea), oil on canvas, 1905, Joaquín Sorolla (Image courtesy of Museo Sorolla)

Another canvas that interested me in the flattening of the perspective is Marie at the Beach. As in other paintings he did of contrejour light on cliff tops, Sorolla flattened out the distances: the sea below is virtually on the same plane as Maria, because one senses his total fascination with the sea and its restless play of light and foam.

Marie on the Beach, (Biarritz), 1906, oil on canvas, Swimmers (Javea), oil on canvas, 1905, Joaquín Sorolla (Image courtesy of Museo Sorolla)

The translucence of white fabric, seen contrajour against the sea, is another of his favourite subjects. Just out of the Sea demonstrates this marvellously; it is all about that luminous, undulating light blowing in the wind, contrasting with the glowing solidity of the mother and small boy, all rendered tangy in the salt air and the susurration of the turquoise sea.

Just out of the Sea, 1915, oil on canvas, Joaquín Sorolla (Image courtesy of Museo Sorolla)

The marine landscapes are all about luminosity, distance being dissolved into pure colour. Sky and sea are his fascinations, his challenges.  No wonder he stated, ""I could not paint at all if I had to paint slowly. Every effect is so transient, it must be rapidly painted.”

Mar de Zarauz, 1910, oil on canvas, Joaquín Sorolla (Image courtesy of Museo Sorolla)

Breakwater, San Sebastian, oil on canvas, Joaquín Sorolla (Image courtesy of Museo Sorolla)

His 1919 works done at Cabo San Vincente in Mallorca are pure colour hymns. No wonder he is loved by so many for these celebrations of the sea, one of Spain's greatest beauties in his lifetime.  We are lucky that he recorded his country's coastal scenes before they were transformed by 20th-century mass tourism.

Cabo San Vicente, Mallorca, 1919, oil on canvas, Joaquín Sorolla (Image courtesy of Museo Sorolla)

Esmeraldas de la Cala San Vicente, 1919, oil on canvas, Joaquín Sorolla (Image courtesy of Museo Sorolla)

Una Barca en la Cala de San Vicente, 1919, oil on canvas, Joaquín Sorolla (Image courtesy of Museo Sorolla)

Helena en Cala San Vicente, 1919, oil on canvas, Joaquín Sorolla (Image courtesy of Museo Sorolla)

Joaquín Sorolla and the Sea - Part I

An exhibition, "Sorolla: The Colour of the Sea" has just come to Palma de Mallorca via the CaixaForum, having travelled to various cities in Spain in larger or smaller version. The paintings and oil on board studies have been lent by the Sorolla Museum in Madrid. They reflect Joaquín Sorolla's passion for the sea, despite the fact he was not born at the coast. They also testify to his enormous skill in working en plein air, at great speed, trying to be faithful to the every-changing light, the restless sea in all its moods and the feel of the place in which he was painting.

Rocas de San Esteban, Asturias, 1903, oil on canvas, Joaquí Sorolla (Image courtesy of Museo Sorolla)

Sorolla commented, "Me sería imposible pintar despacio al aire libre. No hay nada inmóvil en lo que nos rodea. El mar se riza a cada instante, la nube se deforma, al mudar de sitio – pero aunque todo estuviera petrificado y fijo, bastaría que se moviera el sol, lo que hace de continuo para dar diverso aspecto a las cosas. Hay que pintar de prisa porque cuanto se pierde, fugaz que no vuelve a encontrarse!”. Roughly translated, Sorolla said that it was impossible for him to paint slowly en plein air. Nothing stays still around us. The sea ripples continuously, clouds change their form as they move, and even if everything were totally still, even cast in stone, everything would still change in aspect because the sun moves all the time. You have to paint quickly because so much gets lost, some much is fleeting and will never return.

Any artist who has worked outdoors knows exactly what Sorolla was talking about.

Sea at Ibiza (study for Smugglers), 1919, oil on canvas, Joaquín orolla (Image courtesy of Museo Sorolla)

The exhibition showed a fair number of oil on cardboard, small studies, "Colour Notes", and for me, they were the most fascinating aspects of seeing the show. In this first blog entry on Sorolla, I will concentrate on them, as far as I am able to find decent images. First of all, you see Sorolla responding to Nature's colours and forms and seeking the fleeting approximation of the colours and light that he saw. These small rectangles of colour impressions are so abstract it is amazing, even though Sorolla was a passionate Realist.

Study of Waves, oil, Joaquí Sorolla (Image courtesy of Museo Sorolla)

Study of Storm-tossed Sea, oil, Joaquí Sorolla (image courtesy of Museo Sorolla)

Study - Storm at Sea, oil, Joaquí Sorolla (Image courtesy of Museo Sorolla)

Study - Storm at Sea, oil, Joaquí Sorolla (Image courtesy of Museo Sorolla)

Beach Study, Joaquí Sorolla, oil (image courtesy of Museo Sorolla)

Javea Beach, oil, Joaquí Sorolla, (Image courtesy of Museo Sorolla)

Since the sea is endlessly in motion, it is astonishing how Sorolla captures its moods and movement, particularly considering that he did not spend all his time at the coast. His early visits to the brilliantly-lit Mediterranean areas near Javea and Valencia were later contrasted with visits to the north at San Sebastian and Biarritz, with very different atmospheric and marine conditions.

Javea, oil, Joaquí Sorolla, (Image courtesy of Museo Sorolla)

Javea, Study, oil, Joaquí Sorolla (image courtesy of Museo Sorolla)

Sea Study, oil, Joaquí Sorolla, (Image courtesy of Museo Sorolla)

Sea Study, oil, Joaquí Sorolla, (Image courtesy of Museo Sorolla)

Isorllla Sea Study, oil, Joaquí Sorolla, (Image courtesy of Museo Sorolla)

Wave Study, oil, Joaquí Sorolla, (Image courtesy of Museo Sorolla)

Northern Seascape, oil, Joaquí Sorolla (image courtesy of Museo Sorolla)

Beach Study, oil, Joaquí Sorolla (image courtesy of Museo Sorolla)

The studies and paintings of the sea are, to me, the most wonderful part of Sorolla's opus.  For him, of course, these studies were  the preparation for the larger finished paintings. He knew that understanding a scene, preparation and prior choice of colours all helped when it came to working on a bigger canvas.  He remarked, "The great difficulty with large canvases is that they should by right be painted as fast as a sketch. By speed only can you gain an appearance of fleeting effect. But to paint a three yard canvas with the same dispatch as one of ten inches is well-nigh impossible.”

Nonetheless,  Sorolla also knew that once he got going, all bets were off on how the painting would evolve, because the light, scene, sea, would be continually changing.  He advised, “Go to nature with no parti pris. You should not know what your picture is to look like until it is done. Just see the picture that is coming."

For him, as for every artist, especially one working en plein air, every work was a gamble. In his case, however, his gambles paid off handsomely most of the time.