Entries in Stony Point (42)

Monday
Aug032009

Sunset, Monday, 3 August 2009

William Theodore Van Doren. Stony Point, Albemarle County, Va. Oil on canvas, 16 x 20.

I wrote in my sketch that the sky above the clouds was ‘colorless’. In Virginia there’s a ‘colorless’ steam blue of summer and a ‘colorless’ steel blue of winter. Colorless colors, not radically different in composition, just in temperature. Tonight the clouds are largely cerulean blue, a pigment that, in keeping with the name, many people use for the heavens. In this case, heaven has collected in cloud, flying along with the sun.

Sunday
Aug022009

Sunset, Sunday, 2 August 2009

Stony Point, Albemarle County, Va. Oil on paper, 16 x 20.

Saturday
Aug012009

Sunset, Saturday, 1 August 2009

Stony Point, Albemarle County, Va. Oil on paper, 16 x 20.

Today’s the birthday of Washington, D.C., photographer Del Ankers, my uncle, who died in May 2008. Del’s remarkable life and even more remarkable personality are so difficult to convey in a short space, I thought I’d cheat and refer you to the obituary in the Washington Post by Matt Schudel and the appreciation, also in the Post, by Lauren Wilcox. 

If you want to go straight for the entertainment values, Del’s work as a film maker included commercials made with the earliest versions of Jim Henson’s Muppets, and these can be sampled here and here, among other places on the web.

I’ve also posted a few photos and anecdotes related to Del, starting here.

In a nice bit of numerical and family symmetry, since Del was my uncle and would be 93, today is also the birthday of the wonderful Amy Pine of Durham, N.C., who is 39. Friends would drink turpentine for their Amy Pine, that’s how great she is. Happy Birthday.

Friday
Jul312009

Sunset, Friday, 31 July 2009

Stony Point, Albemarle County. Oil on paper, 16 x 20.

Drove today along the Blue Ridge foothills from just below Dyke, Virginia, to a place in the South River basin of Greene County. Had to take a ‘road’ called Turkey Ridge. If two turkeys met there, I believe one would have to take flight to get by. I’m not sure these folks get UPS deliveries.

I started to wonder if I should have carried my chain saw, in case of fallen trees. Grateful to the moonshiners for letting me through their roadblocks. O.K., I’m kidding about the moonshiners. Or at least about them setting up roadblocks. But as I headed down some hairpin turns, I started singing “Thunder Road.”

Not Bruce Springsteen. Robert Mitchum.

G-men on his tail light
Roadblocks up ahead
The mountain boy took roads
That even angels fear to tread

Thursday
Jul302009

Sunset, Thursday, 30 July 2009

William Theodore Van Doren. Stony Point, Albemarle County, Va. Oil on paper, 16 x 20.

Wednesday
Jul292009

Sunset, Wednesday, 29 July 2009

William Theodore Van Doren. Stony Point, Albemarle County, Va. Oil on paper, 16 x 20.

I’ve spent part of the last few walks with Flint looking at sumac. Today I was investigating a little bit of a sumac puzzle, a mystery perhaps only a painter would find mysterious. A color mystery.

This was in a place Laura and I dubbed the Scrubby Field – because – it’s – scrubby. (Most of our names for things around here are pretty much on this level: the Muddy Road [muddy], the Woods Road [in the woods], the Big Field [big], etc.) A field just above the north fork of the Rivanna River. Eight or so years ago it looked as if someone had perhaps cleared parts of it expressly for bird hunters – wide lanes were cleared and covered with tall grasses, alternating with areas of thick brush. Now everything’s overgrown (hence the name). One of the most successful overgrowers is sumac – bushes verging on trees, some approaching a height of 20 feet.

In late summer and fall the clusters of small sumac berries, if that’s the right word for them, will be the distinctive velvety dark scarlet. I always assumed this was staghorn sumac, but apparently true staghorn sumac doesn’t grow this far south. What we have is a cousin, scarlet sumac. Native Americans apparently had many uses for sumac, and I once tried to make tea from the clusters, following some Boy Scout instructions, by sealing them up in water, in a closed jar in the hot sun. Didn’t work.

Right now all the sumac clusters are in one stage or another of a visually interesting transition I’d never noticed before. Some clusters are still very immature, the fruit looks like tiny light green dots. What began to get my attention lately was the next stage, as the buds turned almost the color of ripe wheat waving in the breeze, although, with the remaining green undertone, they seemed more like the color of gold grapes.

Now, the color change I couldn’t understand, the beautiful golden clusters, as I saw so many across the field, seemed like they were turning a dull brown, as if they were drying up. This made no sense. This muddy autumnal brown didn’t look like it could possibly be a phase of any progression to brilliant deep red.

I looked closer – in fact, I had to look very closely. There actually was no dull brown in any part of the sumac. What I was seeing was the opening of tiny outer petals – gold, curling back like miniature wood shavings – and then, through the petals, the inner berry. The berries are two colors of pink, like a furled rosebud of a species developed to be mostly soft, light violet-pink with an edge of strong deep magenta. I don’t know if this inner berry in any way actually opens or unfurls, but at the moment it looks as though it would, and show more of the deep color.

So the off brownish sumac that looked like a result of two colors that can’t mix, was an illusion. The artist didn’t intend for us to see it that way.