Getting past the
iconic into the intimate means working out what you love about a place.
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| Apple tree with swing, by Carol L. Douglas |
In 2013, I spent a few hours ambling around Castine with my
friend Berna. I haven’t spent much time on foot there since. I’m always too
busy.
This year, I managed to separate myself from my car keys. While I waited for my husband to drive up
from Rockport, I took a quiet walk around town. I poked my nose into places
I’ve never investigated.
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| Flood tide, by Carol L. Douglas |
Things look different on foot. A marine creature broke the
surface behind the Perkins
House. The sweet tones of a flute drew me to a gate I’d never noticed
before. The sea sparkled through the garden below.
I had time to ponder Castine’s Post Office. Established in
1794 and in the same building since 1833, it’s one of the nation’s oldest. It’s
painted in the bilious yellow-and-rose-brown color scheme that was traditional
before New England clapboard turned white. I’ve seen it many times, but never noticed
the wooden baskets carved on each corner.
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| High tide, by Carol L. Douglas |
Nor had I ever noted that the fine yellow Georgian on Main
Street has brick side walls and a clapboard front. That’s the reverse of the
usual pattern, so it’s a curiosity.
At breakfast, Harry and Berna and I pondered another question.
If 40 artists each produced six paintings a year for five years, we’ve done
1200 paintings. Castine’s year-round population is 1,366. We’re close to a
painting per person.
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| AM from Jim's deck, by Carol L. Douglas |
My math, of course, is absurd. There haven’t always been 40
artists; we don’t always finish six paintings; many non-residents attend the
show. But we have certainly painted Castine’s icons many times.
This presents both a problem and an opportunity. The problem
can only be solved in one of two ways: either go farther abroad or dig deeper. This
year, I painted two works off-the-neck, on properties overlooking the Bagaduce
River.
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| Penobscot Early Morning, by Carol L. Douglas |
Opportunity lies in going deeper. I started to notice apple
trees. They were everywhere: leaning over an old stone wall, curving over a
picket fence, in lawns, straggling along Battle Avenue. They are as much a part
of our history as Castine’s fine old churches and houses.
The roots of plein air
painting include
the 18th century equivalent of picture postcards. It’s easy to
fall into that trap, but it’s no longer necessary.
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| Adams School, by Carol L. Douglas |
Paul Cézanne famously painted Mont Sainte-Victoire over and over, using it as a template on which to work through ideas. There is much to be learned from getting past the iconic into the intimate, and working out what you truly love about a place.
