My paintings begin as a response to a visual experience; the response to having been present and attentive when a natural image or event has occurred. I am fascinated with the natural light and color of the New England landscape; the changing panorama of the ocean and sky, the fields and stone walls, the patterns that are created by light filtering through trees. I have depicted the people who live and work in the cottages, shops and gardens, and the artifacts of sentiment and utility that have filled my family’s attics and tool sheds.

 

Our garden, located along the Massachusetts coast, has been the subject of many of my paintings for many years. The New England coast, from Provincetown to Maine, has also been a frequent subject for me; the changing light on the marshes and fields never gets old.

 

I am never looking for the next beautiful thing to paint. I am responding to an experience; a time, a scent, a sound, an event of light and color, a person or a particular scene that I have witnessed. I am directed by my curiosity, my “LET ME SEE” mantra in all of its meanings. During the time I am physically painting, the colors and shapes evolve in a succession of actions; technique is secondary. A brushstroke, a drip, the scrape of a palette knife and the resulting merging colors; those gestures, picking up the pigment and making contact with the surface (canvas, paper, etc.) preoccupy me, and sometimes delight me. All of it is a response to what the particular painting demands, what the painting ‘needs’ next, and the process is seldom the same. After all of the years of painting, the design elements usually fall into place. The priority is to get the paint down and moving, to get the subject acknowledged. To see what happens, to let me see.

 

I try to let the work take me where it wants to go, but at times I wrestle with the direction. Most of the time I try to not dominate the work with my intent and allow the action of the brush to respond to the energy of the moment.

I go to art museums. I visit galleries. I travel if a particular artist that I admire has a museum or gallery exhibition. Often, I will also discover a connection to the work of an artist that I have not experienced before. My reaction is emotional, personal, it does not always translate into words.  A connection to a work of art is an invitation to “go along”. To see, feel, experience what the artist saw, what they knew, what they discovered.…those gallery visits feed my knowledge of painting. The observations sustain my love of visual imagery. Being in the studio, alone with the paint, can be lonely. Seeing the work of other artists, whether they are in a class I am teaching or shown in exhibits or museums, is reassuring, and those observations can range from soothing to exhilarating.

 

As I teach, I do not give specific directions for techniques of oil painting, but I attempt to inspire the students’ involvement with the paint, which allows freedom and permission to explore.  That facilitates experimentation and discovery. I try to assess what every student individually needs to move forward, to progress. Imposing my own way of working might impede an artist who has a discovery to be made that will be unique and fulfilling for them. I want to enable students in my class to continue to explore painting in innovative ways after the class ends.

Teaching painting has been a joy in my life. Through teaching I have met artists who have become friends, and with whom I have traveled to exhibitions and workshops. The South Shore Art Center in Cohasset, Massachusetts has been at the center of my teaching experience for nearly 30 years. The gallery at the South Shore Art Center has shown my work and hosted exhibitions which I have curated, for decades.

 

Valerie Forte Vitali

2023