Sandy Bay 7x14

There’s something captivating about panoramic coastal views. In this post, I’ll walk you through my process for my recent 7x14 painting called “Sandy Bay,” exploring techniques for creating depth in these broader compositions and sharing some insights about handling what I call “areas of nothing.”

Sandy Bay 7x14

As usual, I started with hardboard prepped with house paint, a color called “rich soil” - a wonderful earth tone that another artist who visited my studio recently admired. It’s fascinating how paint stores have evolved; rather than measuring with teaspoons, they now input numbers into a system that adds precise amounts of pigment to create custom colors. This earth-toned base supports my approach beautifully because it means I don’t have to cover every scrap of the board, I let some of that warm undertone show through strategically. For the underpainting, I used burnt umber, establishing the composition for this scene. The reference for this painting came from a low-resolution thumbnail image I found. While I haven’t personally visited Sandy Bay, I’d had some requests to paint that area, and I’m quite pleased with how this panoramic view turned out.

“Areas of Nothing”

One technique I want to highlight in this painting isn’t immediately obvious in the final result but was crucial to establishing depth. You’ll notice in the video that I introduced lines that indicate perspective in the foreground areas, what I sometimes call “areas of nothing”, those expanses of grass, dirt, weeds, or rocks that could otherwise be visually static. By adding these subtle perspective lines, I created “dynamicism” (perhaps that’s a word I just made up!) in these otherwise featureless areas. This approach is especially effective for vista-type compositions where you need to move the viewer’s eye through large open areas. I’ve been experimenting with this technique in several recent paintings, and it’s proving quite valuable.

Sky Technique

After completing the underpainting, I moved on to the sky, using my beloved Prussian blue. What a wonderful color! I recently completed another painting (which will be appearing on the channel soon) where I extensively used Prussian blue for water areas, combining it with a bit of Mike’s Gray (titanium white with black) and cadmium yellow in select sections. For this Sandy Bay painting, I love how the cadmium yellow combines with Prussian blue to create those aqua tones. Is this a strictly Tonalist piece? Not really, but it certainly has tonal qualities. The colors in the sky - the gray moving into coral tones and blue - share a tonal similarity. They work together harmoniously, with brightness increasing as we move lower in the sky. I was quite pleased with how the sky turned out. The reference was a composite image I created, and as I’ve mentioned in previous videos, I often recycle the same sky photographs, inserting them into different scenes, moving them around to capture different aspects, or flipping them for variety. I maintain a folder with thousands of sky references, but I tend to return to certain ones that have a beautiful movement of color without being too strident or overpowering. Actually, this painting relates to the sky series I created over a year ago, using similar proportions. The genesis of that series was that I had these spectacular sky references that were too dramatic to integrate into regular landscape scenes without overwhelming them. In those pieces, I essentially featured the sky with just a bit of land. While that’s a valid approach, my real preference is to achieve a balance between an impressive sky and compelling land elements, with everything working together to create a cohesive scene.

Landscape Painting the Tonalist Way

Speaking of Tonalism, my book “Landscape Painting the Tonalist Way” represents 13 years of attempting to paint in this style. I’ve sold almost 200 copies so far, and it’s still available for US $60 with international shipping included (though shipping costs are rising, so the price may need to increase slightly soon). I’ve received nothing but positive feedback from readers who have found it helpful in their own artistic journeys. For those interested in exploring Tonalist approaches in depth, this book offers comprehensive guidance drawn from my years of experience. I’m also working on another series of books that’s progressing well, though I won’t say too much about it yet since I’m in the middle of writing. And for those who caught my unexpected live session recently, I’ll be making that a regular Thursday event - an “Ask Me Anything” format where we can discuss topics like why I prefer Mars Yellow over Raw Sienna (a topic I’ll also be addressing in my upcoming book).

Modulation

Painting water was once a significant challenge for me (I was definitely “Mr. Interior Scene Guy” for a long time), but I’ve grown to love it. The key to painting convincing water is ensuring the horizon line isn’t one solid color across. When establishing that line with my T-square, I always make sure to have at least two colors mixed so I can pull it across as a gradient and then work into that. This relates to a concept I call “modulation” - something I discuss in my book and will likely expand upon in my new one. Look at the gray cloud in the top left corner of this painting - you can see how it transitions from a cooler tone to a slightly more taupey one. I apply this approach to everything in my paintings, always moving elements from one color spectrum to the next - making them cooler or warmer, changing the hue, shifting greens toward red or yellow tones. In the water of this painting, you can see modulation from our right side over toward the peninsula, and another modulation coming down from the top. This creates movement and visual interest without requiring excessive detail.

Approaching Detail

Many painters get fixated on rendering all the little details, but if you get your shapes approximately right in size and placement, and use a pleasant array of modulated colors within them, the detail becomes secondary - just “gravy,” really. For elements like the peninsula in this painting, it would be easy to get lost in excessive detail. While I was once the type of artist who would hunker down and meticulously figure out how every fold and contour worked, my approach to painting has evolved significantly. Now, I prefer to work with dabs of color, establishing a range of values from dark to light, and allowing the details to emerge naturally through the array of brushwork. I call this approach “daubing” or sometimes “chunking” - working your way through the masses with fractured strokes and varied colors. This creates a painting that’s expressive while still clearly representing the subject matter. An illustrative approach works well for some artists, but for the kind of painting I’m drawn to, this more direct, expressive method aligns better with my goals.

Creating Energy

You can see how I handle those “areas of nothing” we discussed earlier - while those one-point perspective strokes aren’t overtly apparent in the finished painting, they helped give that “zoom in” feel and contributed to the overall sense of depth. I strive to put dynamics into my paintings, giving everything a kind of “spring-loaded” feel, not in an aggressive way, but creating a sense of energy moving through the scene. This relates to how I think about composition and how viewers’ eyes will move through the painting. I don’t approach this in a calculated, formulaic way; it’s very much by feel, but that feeling has been developed through creating countless paintings. This intuitive approach contrasts with working everything out in a linear, pre-planned way. I feel my way through the process, applying techniques I know work based on having created many successful paintings - and perhaps more importantly, having created many unsuccessful ones.

Learning from Failures

Every artist experiences failures, and they always sting. It happens less frequently with experience because you learn what doesn’t work, but there are still times when you need to take chances. You can’t be afraid of failure if you want to be a good artist; you have to embrace it. That said, one tip I’ll leave you with: you don’t need to keep those failed paintings around. Take them out to the curb, stomp on them, and throw them away so they won’t be “stinking up your legacy”! For those interested in seeing more of my painting process in detail, including the struggles and insights that don’t always make it into these sped-up videos, consider joining the members area where I share complete painting sessions with reference images at the fore in 4K with no ads.

Until next time, take good care of yourself, your family, and all your loved ones—and as always, stay out of trouble.

Mike