The Resurrectionist

It looks a little violent, but it's really just a bunch of different quinacridones dumped together.

It looks a little violent, but it’s really just a bunch of violets.

My painting this spring has felt unsatisfactory. When my students tell me that, I always encourage them to return to first principles. It finally dawned on me that my studio hasn’t been in order since mid-August when I left for Alaska. Some artists thrive on disorder but I am not one of them. For the past two weeks I’ve focused on integrating the things I brought from Rochester into my Rockport studio. Finally, on the eve of my trip back to western New York, I organized my paints.

I decided to dump all my quinacridone-based reds together to see if I could replace my discontinued color.

I decided to dump all my quinacridone-based reds together to see if I could replace my discontinued color.

My paint-makers, RGH Artists’ Oil Paints, have discontinued one of my favorite pigments, a deep quinacridone red-violet. It is a sort of higher-chroma, more permanent version of alizarin crimson. I could buy it elsewhere, but I’m very partial to this brand.

They mixed up into a plausible copy of my lost, lamented paint.

They mixed up into a plausible copy of my lost, lamented paint.

I decided to mix up all my quinacridone pigments and see if I could make a decent analog of this much-loved paint. These consisted of quinacridone-based carmine, red, red-violet, and two violets. I felt comfortable doing this because they’re really all the same pigment in different formulations.

If I were doing it again, I would use two quinacridone reds to one quinacridone violet instead of the 1.5:1 balance I used, but since I mixed about 425 ml this time, I don’t expect I’ll need to do worry about it soon.

I whipped each can of paints before reloading my palette.

I whipped each can of paints before reloading my palette.

With the exception of two colors—quinacridone violet and Prussian blue—I carry my field paints in a plastic pill box. The violet and blue are both high-stain colors and tend to leak across the box. That means that once in a blue moon I have to tube some of these colors. I don’t like tubing pain. I am thinking of finding some surplus jars that I could use to carry these colors in, just like a Paint-by-Number kit.

But tubing paint is one of my most-hated jobs. I always get it all over the place.

Tubing paint is one of my most-hated jobs. I always get it all over the place.

Over time, all paints tend to separate. In a tube, you’re out of luck; all you can do is squeeze out the paint and try to jolly the separated parts back together. When you keep paint in jars, you can just rewhip it and it’s just like new. It being spring, I did that with each of my paints before repacking my box.

All ready to paint in western New York this afternoon!

All ready to paint in western New York this afternoon!

This morning I’m in Buffalo, preparing to head to Rochester to paint with some of my former students. My kit is ready to go!

Carol Douglas

About Carol Douglas

Carol L. Douglas is a painter who lives, works and teaches in Rockport, ME. Her annual workshop will again be held on the Schoodic Peninsula in beautiful Acadia National Park, from August 6-11, 2017. Visit www.watch-me-paint.com/ for more information.