Why a plein‑air landscape artist needs a studio

Parking that I also make studio prints and paintings, I actually need a studio for my outdoor (en plein‑air) art, too. Here's how I use my studio to help me make on‑site landscape art, and how I'm constantly modifying it to support my activity.

An outdoor artist

Updated: 10 Apr 2023

All my art begins outside 'en plein‑air'*An art term meaning 'in the fresh air', and I use my outdoor paintings to inspire more art back in my studio.

During the evolution of my art practice, the latest notable period was when I drifted into working in my studio more than working outside. I'd become studio-bound, a studio artist only, and it wasn't good for my art (or for me).

Traditional printmaking is a studio based activity – it revolves around a printmaker's printing press for much of the production work. Though mine is a small press, it's a lot heavier than it looks, so it's not a traveller.

In traditional linocut printing, there are no plugs, on/off or 'print' buttons involved. There's no setting it up, and disappearing outside to sketch/paint while the machine makes the prints. The printmaker themselves is the maker of the prints.

A quiet drift

The, drift into spending more time in the studio away from outdoor work happened slowly, over years, so it was under my radar.

I'm not sure what caused me to detect an unclear discomfort with how I was working and the art I was making, but I did.

I'd just begun to understand I had a need to get outside with a sketchbook, when covid began to stalk the world, and things rapidly escalated.

Had I not been distracted by my concern for elderly parents, I think the frustration of the timing would have been unbearable. As it was, I just got on with it like most of us did.

What lockdowns did though, was help me see what the issue was and understand it…

The landscape, my muse, had missed me and I had missed it, and I badly needed to reconnect.

The evolution of a studio

My printmaking and painting studio is compact to say the least. On a positive note, it is very cosy and warm in winter (when the radiator works).

My studio is not instagram friendly. It's small and pokey, and overwhelmed with art making. Every inch of it is a working surface, and not in a photogenic way.

All artist's practices develop, though I'm prone to unsubtle step‑changes. Not exactly like Picasso's Blue period that was followed by his Rose period, and then I think [recalls endless student lectures on Picasso] his cubist period, but kind of.

Having worked as an illustrator for many years after leaving art school, I understand how important a well set-up studio space is. So as my art practice has changed, I've adapted my studio to go with it.

A history of my studio

Back in 2007, I bought my printmaking press, and a storage unit to put it on. A table from a flea market in town quickly followed, and boom: I had a 'proper' studio space at home for the first time.

The benchtop press, pedestal storage unit and small table, shared the room with a futon, and that was it for a long while.

There were tweaks such as a low shelving unit appearing, but it wasn't until 2015 that any big changes happened.

During 2015, I spent a lot of time and some money reorganising and equipping my studio to make it a more productive space.

The futon went and was replaced by a small desk with some technology on it. I bought a heavy easel, and a kitchen island unit to repurpose into an artist's taboret (that was fun and it works brilliantly). Finally, I spent a fair bit on decent lighting.

The studio had served me well as a dedicated printmaking workshop, but I wanted to create a dedicated painting corner too.

Constantly clearing away print stuff for paint stuff, and back again, had become so irksome I'd finally acted. And for 7 years it was just dandy.

During the middle of 2022, having gone through the realisation I've explained above and while the crowds outdoors were too much, I put up shelving. Some deep shelves for my books and stuff, and shallow shelves for newly completed plein‑air paintings to 'rest' on, after being brought home.

There's just a tiny bit of wall space not doing anything now. Only a matter of time before I put more shelves pin board on it.

All my studio needs currently is a good old tidy‑up, of the clear‑out variety, and you never know, it might be beginning to look like an artist works there.

Beware: Outdoor Artist at work… indoors

So what does an outdoor artist use a studio for? It's all fairly obvious why an outdoor artist needs a studio space:

Storing & prepping stuff

  • Cutting and toning canvas boards needs a lot of space, and I've got a wooden plate drying rack for wet boards. They do tend to cover every surface though, as I prep dozens at a time.
  • Storing materials and kit such as canvas boards, paints, brushes, and bits of easels, plus outdoor painting kit that's only needed in summer or winter (fly repellant for example). Spare easels and wet canvas carriers, a shopping bag on wheels for cityscape work, drawing boards, gloves, caps, and hand wipes are some of the many things I keep in corners, in boxes and on shelves. Can't have too many shelves in a studio.
  • I store and maintain my grab‑and‑go sketching/painting bags in the studio. I've got a few. The lightest bag contains mainly, but not exclusively dry media for tonal work, and a small sketchbook. The middle bag is focussed on watercolour, and the heaviest contains a box of gouache tubes, a large but light palette, brushes, water pot and an A3 heavy paper pad.
  • Most importantly and frequently, I use my studio for reviewing, updating, and replenishing my oil painting plein-air kit. It's the kit I use most and it needs keeping on top of. The list is long: it includes cleaning my palettes if I didn't while out, cleaning and replacing tubes of paint and brushes, cleaning and refilling my medium pots and solvent tin (I don't use turps but one of the newer 'nicer' solvents and always bring it home). I fix anything that's broken (or swear at it if it can't be fixed), reorganise how the rucksack is packed, change rags, replace paper towel rolls, bulldog clips, and jettison any 'stuff' that's accumulated and I'm not using.

Planning, finishing‑up, & planning

  • Planning trips and subjects I want to paint. I've a big collection of OS maps in my studio for the purpose, and to identify what I've painted so I can title the work correctly. I also draw out plans and trackers for projects, and pin them to my pin board. I'm a visually brained person, so making plans visual is better than writing them down.
  • Drying completed plein‑air paintings. After trips out, newly completed paintings are placed on shallow shelves designed for the purpose. While many are dry or almost, not all are. Even seemingly dry paintings can have fragile areas, so they need somewhere safe to rest.
  • Another important activity is reviewing and critiquing paintings completed. I 'tickle'*A nice description used by Peter Brown – UK's leading plein‑air artist. any paintings that need it. I also try to figure out what I did well, what worked, and note what other way I could have approached the scene for future reference.
  • Finally, I follow‑up by beginning to plan the next phase. As I said at the beginning, all my art begins outdoors. My outside work inspires more art in my studio (it's where all my linocut ideas have come from). So I'll sit down with the finished plein‑air painting and sketch out a few ideas for a studio painting or print.

The art I make…