by M. Stephen Doherty

McGurl sat in a student’s folding chair to make suggestions that were relevant to what the workshop participant was seeing and painting.

Students fortunate enough to attend one of the two annual Joseph McGurl workshops organized by the Cape Cod Museum of Art in June and the Copley Society of Art, in Boston, in September—both held in the artist’s Cape Cod studio—ask as many questions about the artist’s professional activities as they do his painting techniques. That’s because McGurl is one of the top landscape painters in the country, and many aspiring artists want to learn how he develops and manages his demanding professional schedule. The 12 artists who participated in his workshop this past September were somewhat surprised to discover that the man they might have expected to be aggressive, promotion-minded, detail-oriented, and egocentric is not. But he is competitive—it’s just the only person he competes with is himself.

Audio Slideshow View an audio slideshow demonstration of McGurl's Through the Trees.

“I don’t have written contracts with galleries, I don’t have a publicity agent, I don’t enter many juried competitions, I don’t belong to a lot of art organizations, and I haven’t written a book or produced a video,” McGurl explained to his surprised students. “I focus on my painting and try to create the best pictures I can. Some of the artists I measure myself against are the great 19th-century landscape painters.”

Over the course of three days, workshop students learned just what McGurl meant. Starting with a morning lecture in his studio and continuing with a painting demonstration outdoors, the instructor provided a wealth of information about materials and techniques he uses for specific purposes. By the end of the workshop, participants had filled notebooks with recommendations about ways to prepare a surface for painting; preliminary drawing and monochromatic painting steps that resolved values; scumbling and palette-knife techniques for implying detail; glazes that accentuated the impact of light and atmosphere; color mixtures to better represent light, distance, and form; brushwork aimed at suggesting volume; and variations on every technique that was previously described. In short, McGurl gave his students a complex language of techniques they could use to express exactly what they observed and felt.

To break up the horizontal band of grasses and add texture to a student’s picture, McGurl recommended scraping lines with the back end of a paintbrush.

It was clear to those students that McGurl never relies on one set of methods. Instead, he constantly challenges himself to learn more so he can find the best way to convey what matters about each landscape at the moment it catches his attention. To illustrate that point, he showed a series of sketches made during one week in Acadia National Park, in Maine. “I thought it would be interesting to paint the same location during one week of the year, working from dawn until dusk,” he explained. “Each time I started on a new panel, I decided what was the most interesting visual phenomenon—the light, the colors, the shapes, the close-up details, the distant boats, the winding roads, the rocks—whatever caught my attention. Then I determined how best to convey that to the viewer. When I was back in my studio weeks later, I selected a few of those sketches to use to paint larger and more detailed landscapes.”

After a short lunch break, workshop participants drove to one of the shores near McGurl’s studio to work on their own paintings and receive suggestions from the instructor. As he moved from person to person, the artist made specific recommendations, first about the general composition laid out on the canvas or panel and then about the exact color mixtures being used to bring the scene to life.

McGurl demonstrated how he captures the appearance of light penetrating a sail with glazes of oil color.

McGurl has a matter-of-fact, no-nonsense kind of personality. He doesn’t embellish his remarks or wax poetic during his commentary. Instead, he offers the few words that express exactly what he means, and then he stops talking. The advantage of that approach to students is that McGurl’s instructions are lucid, his criticisms are on the mark, and his recommendations remain clear in their minds.

Painting Demonstration
McGurl offered several demonstrations during the three-day workshop—some were held outdoors and involved painting specific locations for two or three hours, while others were presented in the studio and showed how McGurl developed large studio pictures by blocking in a monochromatic underpainting. The studio demonstration focused on a plein air sketch of a scene of the White Mountains of New Hampshire that McGurl intended to develop into a large oil painting on a panel.

“I save most of my plein air sketches rather than sell them because I don’t work from photographs and therefore the sketches are important references when painting large studio pictures,” McGurl told the students. “I can either project the color sketch directly onto the panel I’ve toned with a wash of burnt sienna, or I can reduce the sketch down in a photocopy machine and project a smaller, black-and-white copy.”

The artist then showed students how he quickly establishes the basic shapes and value ranges within his landscape compositions by painting light values with Winsor & Newton Underpainting White oil color and the darks with burnt umber. “The point is to map out the picture so I can evaluate the composition before investing a lot of time on color, texture, and detail,” he described. “If something needs adjusting, I can wipe paint off the surface or add more white and umber until I’m satisfied. It’s easier to make major changes at this early stage when I don’t have a lot of paint on the surface. Furthermore, I have an opportunity to study the all-important composition of values before I get too far into the painting process. I recommend this process to students because they often have the greatest difficulty judging relative values, and it’s easier for them to deal with that issue without the complication of color.”

McGurl mixed colors on a student’s palette to explain how he would prepare the right mixture of pigments.

With the surface of the panel already covered with a medium-tone burnt sienna, McGurl used a thin mixture of the underpainting white to block in the sky, the field of snow, and the lines of snow crossing the middle of the landscape and moving diagonally up a ridge on the mountain. “The advantage of using the underpainting white rather than titanium white is that it can be thinned down with odorless mineral spirits or applied in its natural stiff condition to build up texture on the painting surface, and it also adheres to the fat-over-lean principle of paint-layer application,” McGurl said. “I used to add olio pasta to my paints to get that kind of buildup, but I found that the stiff white is just as good, and it dries faster than other white paints.”

McGurl pointed out that he doesn’t start every painting exactly the same way, and his procedure has changed over the years as his objectives shifted and he became aware of other techniques. “I sometimes start working directly with color, and I use an alkyd medium in the early stages of painting to speed up the drying time,” he revealed. “I try to select the materials and techniques most appropriate to what I want to say in a painting, and I remain open to trying things that might improve the final presentation.”

Evening Comes to the Marsh by Joseph McGurl, 2006, oil, 18 x 36. Courtesy Hammer Galleries, New York, New York.

ONCE SATISFIED with the light values indicated by the underpainting white, McGurl used a thin mixture of burnt umber to establish the large landscape shapes in the distance and a thicker mixture of the earth color to clarify the foreground bands of trees. He then turned the panel upside down, stepped back from his easel, and took a hard look at the abstract arrangement of shapes developing on the panel. He even looked at the reverse image of the painting in a mirror hanging across from the easel so he could judge the composition without seeing the details of a specific location. “It’s amazing what you see when you stop considering the appearance of the subject and just evaluate the abstract shapes,” he commented. “I find it also helps at this stage to put a painting away for a day or two so it dries and then look at it with fresh vision. Over the years I’ve found that simple step to have had a dramatic impact on the final result because it allows me see potential problems or strong passages at an early stage when I can do something about them. The better qualities can be emphasized, and the problems can be resolved before I’ve invested a lot of time and paint in the development of the picture. As a result, I will usually have a half-dozen paintings in stages of development at one time, with each one put aside for further evaluation when that can be helpful.”

Garden, Squeteague Harbor by Joseph McGurl, 2006, oil, 9 x 12. All artwork this article private collection.

In another demonstration of painting techniques, McGurl showed workshop students how he glazes layers of oil color to realize the glow of light and the prevailing atmosphere in a landscape. He first sanded the smooth surface of a canvas for better adhesion and then applied a thin layer of pigment mixed with Liquin alkyd medium. “I consider how the planes of the objects turn in space and catch the light directly or indirectly and when they allow the light to penetrate,” McGurl explained. “Then I mix pigment and medium together with a palette knife on a slab of white marble so I can accurately judge the degree of transparency in the glaze, and I apply that to the painting surface. I often prewet the surface of the canvas with a mixture of linseed oil and Liquin, and then I brush the thinned pigment onto that damp canvas. It’s hard to calculate the exact amount of transparency and brushwork needed; and if I’m not satisfied with an application of a glaze I will let it dry, sand the surface again, and try another combination of pigment, linseed oil, and Liquin. I may also spray retouch varnish on the canvas to unify the glossy surface and then apply another layer of glazes. It’s difficult to know in advance how much subtle manipulation is necessary because it all depends on how a transparent glaze will change the appearance of the paint already on the canvas and how each of the pigments shifts in value as it dries. For example, dioxazine purple dries darker than it appears when wet. I have to apply and re-apply thin layers until I establish the lighting effect I want.”

Whiteness by Joseph McGurl, 2006, oil, 18 x 24. Courtesy Hammer Galleries, New York, New York.

McGurl uses glazes to suggest movement and the appearance of light, especially when rendering waves in an ocean. “I think about the various planes that are constantly changing as they reflect the light, turn away from the light, or allow the light to penetrate,” he explained to the workshop students. “Glazes made from various combinations of ultramarine blue, dioxazine purple, and Old Holland Scheveningen blue are effective in creating the impression of lively, moving water. The opaque mixtures of those colors can be applied with a palette knife, and thin layers can be brushed on to create the appearance of shadows, reflections, and transparent waves. The key is to go back and forth with the brush and palette knife to establish various textures and degrees of opacity.”

McGurl concluded the morning studio session and gave workshop participants directions to nearby locations where they could paint during the afternoon. Before taking a break, the instructor gave the class specific advice about selecting a scene and blocking it in during the afternoon painting session. “Position your easel and palette so they are in shadow,” McGurl advised. “Stand under a tree or facing the light so the sunlight won’t fall directly on your mixing or painting surfaces because the bright light will cause the pupils of your eyes to constrict and you won’t see values correctly. Also, consider what will happen over two or three hours as the sun moves farther west and closer to the horizon. Don’t start painting a brightly lit space if you know it will fall into shadow in 15 minutes.

Island Road by Joseph McGurl, 2005, oil, 30 x 36.

“Squint your eyes when you first look at a scene so you only see the large shapes and value relationships that need to be established,” McGurl added. “Paint those shapes with thin mixtures of oil color, concentrating on the structure of the water, trees, and land. Finally, remember that you may have to exaggerate or invent things to convince viewers of the believability of what you are painting.”

As the workshop participants developed their own landscape paintings during the afternoon session, McGurl checked on them every hour to evaluate their progress and advise them on ways to improve their pictures. He noted that several were having trouble mixing the right color and value of the distant land formations, and he recommended they isolate their views of those locations by forming a circle with the fingers of one hand and peering at the isolated section of the landscape. “Some judgments need to be made in the context of the total picture and others in isolation,” he explained. “If you peek through a small hole between your fingers, you can gauge the exact color of a distant tree or land mass; and when you look at that object within the total scene you can better judge the relative value of the color. An adjustable viewfinder can be used for making these kinds of judgments. The goal is to judge what you actually see rather than what you know about a form.”

Within the Marsh by Joseph McGurl, 2006, oil, 24 x 48.

McGurl shared some rather unorthodox painting techniques, such as scraping lines into wet paint using the blunt end of a brush handle, smearing edges with one’s fingers, and cutting the hairs of a brush with scissors so that they would make uneven, random waves in water when dragged across the canvas. “I first learned to paint while helping my father create murals and backdrops, and we were always looking for ways to suggest more detail than we actually painted,” McGurl told the class. “Sometimes there are better tools to use than a standard bristle or sable paintbrush.”

ONE THE MORNING of the third day of the workshop, McGurl painted a demonstration across the street from his studio, where there was shade and a view of a small cove. Before laying out his paints, he made some general suggestions based on what he observed the day before. “Several of you seemed to be having problems accurately judging the colors and values of receding areas of the landscape,” he said. “Whenever you mix a new color on your palette, look at it and ask yourself if it needs to be warmer, cooler, lighter, or darker to mix the exact color you want. The most subtle tones can be achieved by simplifying the mixing process into those four simple options.”

Across the Valley, North Conway 2006, oil, 24 x 36.

To illustrate how one can successfully make these kinds of judgments, McGurl started his demonstration by evaluating potential compositions through a viewfinder and drawing the selected shapes with a thin mixture of burnt umber on a SourceTek panel previously toned with a light-tan color. He continued blocking in the landscape using a fairly limited palette of colors mixed with Liquin and underpainting white squeezed into the middle of his Maier Box portable wooden palette. “I have a tendency to mix colors too dark, so the white reminds me to lighten the values; and the Liquin speeds up the drying of the paint, which makes it easier to layer the oil colors,” McGurl explained.

As the instructor worked on his demonstration, he spent extra time painting the line of stones in the middle of the composition. “They are the real focal point of the painting, and I want to add enough detail to grab the viewer’s attention,” he said. “They appear as rather cool, gray shapes in the landscape, but I am adding warm burnt umber to the greens and grays I’ve mixed to paint them. In general, warm colors are more appealing than cool ones and, in this case, those warm colors will help bring the rocks forward while the cool background colors will recede. Another consideration is creating a sense that the rocks are growing out of the ground, not resting on it. I’ll make a point of using soft, lost edges where the rocks blend into the grasses, and I’ll add strong, dappled highlights on the top surfaces.”

Although McGurl used bristle brushes for most of the painting, he employed a palette knife toward the end of the demonstration to achieve certain visual effects. “It’s the perfect tool for approximating the appearance of the foliage in the distance, softening the edges of the water along the shoreline, and establishing transitions between the dark background and the bright-blue water,” he told the class. “I’ll also use a fan brush to add texture in various places, although I want to avoid the kinds of tricky things some of the decorative painters do with that brush. There really is a lot of craft to painting—knowing what various tools can do to achieve desired visual effects. Creating the illusion of reality is not a matter of slavishly copying photographs, as some people think.”

McGurl kept his focus on the demonstration painting for three hours, proving that energy and stamina are important factors for successful plein air painting. And although he had the picture fairly well defined after the first hour, he kept adjusting and refining the balance of values, color combinations, textural effects, and details long after most artists would have added their signatures. The workshop participants could see that McGurl’s success results from a combination of skill, knowledge, experience, and determination.

M. Stephen Doherty is the editor-in-chief of Workshop.

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