I once joked during an interview with a local magazine that was interviewing me, that if I ever was to write a book about my experiences of sketching and painting Hong Kong, I would title the book "Smoking & Swearing: My Hong Kong Art Journey". This was a tongue-in-cheek reference to something that I have experienced a few times whilst outside painting and sketching from life in the city. Occasionally, I would sit at public benches in parks or on street corners to sketch. It just so happens that other people would also be sharing these spaces, and in my experience, older local men would also gather to smoke, swear and shoot the shit (excuse my French) with eat other.
With this background atmosphere adding colour and flavour to my surroundings I often chuckle to myself as I work outside, listening to these old geezers 'sending regards to each other's mothers' is the kind of real-life grassroots experience that I enjoy. I hope some of this seasoning flavours my sketching along with all the other many inputs that fill up my senses.
Since starting my ‘art journey’ amid the COVID pandemic, I have particularly enjoyed working outdoors and painting from life. The first artwork I created in the empty sketchbook that I found lying discarded in a drawer after years of unuse was an acrylic painting done at a local beach.
This moment of sudden artistic expression came following decades of lying dormant inside my mind. After 25 years of manic daily activity as a toy designer, the pandemic brought an unexpected and sudden stop to my usual routine. Feeling restless, injured, with no structure to my days, and insecure with the status of the world around me I reached for the newly discovered sketchbook and decided to simply go outside and paint something. Anything. As a way to process and distract myself from the unsettling situation of being unemployed in the midst of an era-defining global event. So, with my set of old acrylic paints and a sketchbook that had been gifted to me by my ex-colleagues, I settled onto a rock and attempted to paint a scene of a tree-lined bay. I didn’t know if at the time, but this one simple act of creating art outdoors, led to me discovering a new passion, direction, and possible career change too.
What is ‘Plein Air’ Painting?
There are two terms that I have become familiar with that describe the activity of painting and drawing outdoors. One is ‘Urban Sketching’ which is the “practice of drawing or painting on location to capture a moment in time” and the other is “En plein air” which is a French phrase that means "in the open air" and refers to the practice of painting outdoors. These two descriptions seem to have merged in my experience, especially in my own artwork which is focused on the Hong Kong environment and landscapes.
In my mind “En Plein air”, has that classical image of an artist working with a canvas on an easel that has been set up in the natural environment, possibly a field of some area with natural beauty associated with it. Possibly, because the term is French, I think of artists such as Cezanne or Monet working to capture an impression of a scene quickly. Focusing on such factors as light and atmosphere more than detail or realism and working quickly with big brush strokes. At the time the impressionist movement was breaking the boundaries of art with this radical approach. Now, this is the more familiar and traditional view of the classic artist working outdoors on location and has a natural environmental feel to it..
What is ‘Urban Sketching?
‘Urban Sketching’ on the other hand and as the name implies has an ‘urban’ element to it that is far removed from nature and (according to Wikipedia) is a “counter-movement to rapid consumption, as it's an attempt to slow down and enjoy the moment. Some say that urban sketching helps you appreciate a place's nuances differently”.
This last part, of slowing down and enjoying the moment in a different way as compared to a photograph is something that I have come to truly appreciate. It is almost a form of mindfulness, to be in an urban setting such as a busy street, and to slowly observe a scene longer than one would in a usual situation. Gradually, I feel like I am tuning into the scene and operating on the same frequency as it. Although I have had conversations with photographers who describe their experiences working outside in a similar way to my own. However, the key element is that urban sketchers create the art themselves by their own hand. Their eyes are the camera, their senses add to the human machine that translates these stimuli onto the page.
For myself, I think when I am working out on the city streets, I feel that I am in my Urban Sketching mode. My mind feels primed to respond to the urban environment with its man-made settings and cacophony of sights, noises, and smells. This is further magnified by the fact I live and work in such a fascinating city as Hong Kong.
Hong Kong with its densely packed concrete canyons and unique mixtures of visual contradictions such as the old and new architecture, the elegant and the dilapidated and the downright bizarre is a wonderful spring of inspiration and curiosity. Hong Kong is particularly urban and has layers and layers of details that are particularly unique to this corner of the world. From the commercial signage, the bamboo scaffolding, the crowds of people, and the ubiquitous red white, and blue striped PVC that is used for both shopping bags and market awnings, there are visual elements of a Hong Kong street scene that have become recognized as a style that represents Asian city life. Something that has been depicted in various Hollywood movies and shows.
One of the things that I have come to ‘like’ in some strange counterintuitive and slightly masochistic way is the sheer difficulty experienced with creating artwork outside. Maybe ‘like’ is the wrong word to use. There are many elements that I don’t like when working outside, such as the heat & humidity of a Hong Kong summer, not to mention the storms and rain which can ruin a sketching session, and of course the bugs and biting insects. Plus the basic need to find a place to sit can prove to be a major hassle, as can the need to find a bathroom to answer nature’s call can cut short a sketch session.
Timing & weather
Time is also a major contributing factor to contend with when working on location for many other reasons. The time it takes to find a suitable spot with a scene that is worth painting, the actual available time to create the artwork, and the timing between the different layers of paint application that I use, particularly when working with watercolours.
Watercolour painting a ‘reductive’ in its application, meaning the whitest and brightest colour that one will have is the actual colour of the paper itself. Then successive layers of tones from light to dark form the image. This is the opposite of mediums such as oils, acrylics or pastels, where layers of colour can be built up upon each other. The issue is that for best results some time needs to pass between watercolour paint layers to achieve a suitable definition. This timing is not always possible to achieve on location. So occasionally I will use pen and ink to help speed up the process, especially when working on a complex scene. The most rewarding results I find, however, are when I keep the painting ‘pure’ with just watercolours and I have managed to get the timing right.
Equipment and the lack of
Selecting the right equipment can feel overwhelming. A lightweight easel paired with easy-to-carry supplies aids in mobility but can compromise quality. The challenge lies in finding a suitable balance that doesn’t sacrifice artistic vision. I look with envy at some of the things that other artists take out on the road with them. Full easels, collapsible chairs etc. One guy I know even takes a school desk with him, (not sure how he does that exactly). As for me, I usually take the bare minimum. Which is great for carrying in terms of weight but can sometimes backfire when I have to settle for sitting on the floor.
Sometimes I am able to find a good perch onto which to sit, such as a step of even a fire hydrant. I usually bring along a piece of foam on which to sit as it helps to prevent the numbing of one’s ‘derrière’ at least for a time. I don’t usually bring a chair as it can be quite cumbersome to transport. Most often I simply sit on the floor and hope that it doesn’t rain.
Page stability is also an issue. Not having a flat surface on which to place the page or paper can be a real challenge. Often I simply balance a sketchbook or pad on my knees and hope to keep from shaking too much!
The Internally Driven Artist: Fighting Self-Doubt
Even the most passionate plein air artists grapple with self-doubt. Questions frequently arise: Is this work good enough? Am I truly reflecting the scene? However, there are other concerns when working in Hong Kong. Like am I blocking any shops or am I likely to make anyone annoyed at me for some reason..
I often feel the challenge of embarrassment. Sometimes I can feel quite exposed when working on an artwork in a busy location with lots of onlookers. Especially since I am quite a large westerner who can look out of place sitting in the middle of a busy street. I can feel quite a lot of ‘performance anxiety’. It can take some time before a painting or a sketch develops enough to look good enough to share. Particularly when working purely in watercolors, where like a slowly developing potoroid photograph, the final definition and sharpness of the image don’t appear straight away. I can often hear the difference of people looking over my shoulder when some will observe me at the beginning of a sketch and some will see the near-final result. The audible cues can range from grunts of indifference to sounds of appreciation, wonder, and the occasional ‘ho leng ah’ stamen (Cantonese for very pretty).
The Joy of Completion: A Personal Triumph
There is an unmatched sense of pride in stepping back to appreciate a finished plein air piece. Every painting tells a story woven with hard work, nature’s challenges, and personal growth.
Artists often describe the satisfaction of holding a completed work in their hands as a moment of triumph. Each piece serves as a testament to their journey, filled with memories of challenges overcome and achievements celebrated. This emotional connection to their art fuels their passion, inspiring future outdoor excursions.
Celebrating the Artistic Journey
The journey of a plein air artist embodies resilience, creativity, and dedication. Overcoming each challenge—from unpredictable weather to self-doubt and equipment decisions—shapes their artistic expression and enhances their commitment to painting.
Community support fosters encouragement, while the joy of completing a piece invigorates their spirits. Every brushstroke reflects the passion and determination of these artists, capturing nature's unseen beauty and sharing it through their eyes. As the day ends and the landscape transforms under fading light, plein air artists remind us of the magic in nature, waiting to be revealed through art.
Yet these difficulties add to the challenge of location work that somehow seems to elevate its worth to me. It feels more ‘real’ to me somehow like I am a ‘real’ artist working outside for ‘real’ creating artwork from ‘real life’. Even if the result is not as commercial or as pretty as a studio create artwork, I get a lot more personal satisfaction and feel like I am ‘earning my stripes’ to becoming a ‘real artist’.
However, there is another consideration that I have come to contemplate. The value of working outside versus working indoors. When working on a studio project (when I say studio I mean my dining table in my apartment), I usually work from a photo and can take my time to go into more detail to produce a result that has a higher fidelity to it. Some of my most commercially successful artworks have come from working indoors where I can control the environment and create a level of constant comfort. Something that is often denied to me when working outside. Yet often I feel more self-reward from the latter.
It is undeniably harder and more challenging to create artwork on location that looks good enough to justify the time and effort put into creating it. However, it is the personal satisfaction that I feel that gives me added impetus to keep traveling on my art journey. This is why I tend to do both location and studio work, often simultaneously.
I hope you have enjoyed reading about some of my experiences with working outside and if you ever see some of my location-based work, that you have some new appreciation for the effort involved. Also, if you ever should see me working outside sometime, please feel free to come over for a chat and I can explain the process to you in more detail. Best wishes, Richard.
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