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"Great Head in March, Acadia National Park"

When I arrived at the summit of Great Head in Acadia National Park, on the morning of March 4th, there were two things that run through my head. First, I had not painted here since my residency with the park in August 2006 and second, this was a real opportunity for me because I had never painted Great Head in the Winter. The trails were all icy but easy to maneuver. That is until you made the calculated decision to hike off them and closer to the water's edge. Then it got rougher and icier and the level of the hike moved from moderate to difficult and slow going. But I found the kid inside me when sliding down on my bottom, down the large snow-covered rocks and sometimes hopping from one dried hulking rock to another to get to the flat rock at the base of the cliff. I was in anticipation of the glacial Great Head views Thomas Cole and William Stanley Haseltine painted between the 1840's and 1850's. This head has a huge overhanging rock mass over a cave-like form that seems to tilt forward as if defying the power of the North Atlantic ocean in Frenchman's Bay. But to get there you have to not be standing on the summit or stay solely on the trail that loops around. You have to get down closer to the water's edge and go around huge truck-size boulders and ledges to finally get this view. On this day, when I came around the last boulder that was obstructing my view, thinking I might never see it, suddenly there it was! And it nearly took my breath away! It was just as I remember it but with a lot more. Today there was ice floes and huge icicles hanging down from the roof of the outside of the cave and sides of the face of the edifice. It was not a Frederic Church with a rogue wave-sized comber completely consuming the mouth of the cave, but it more like a Haseltine of serene and subtle facets of tone and color as in his watercolors. And as the tide  come in the surf got more dramatic on this bright eye-aching day. It was difficult to find even a flat rock to set up an tripod and French Resistance easel on the sloping ledge that sported the best views. The wind was coming out of the west at my back and too strong and dangerous to attach an umbrella. So I kept in mind to balance the amount of light that was falling on my palette with my painting surface, tilting and moving it side to side until they matched. So much of the painting can be altered if these two surfaces are not the same. It causes an added stress to the eyes making it more difficult to read color and value tones.

In this painting I included my 4 basic  colors of Zinc White, Yellow Ochre, Lamp Black/Ivory Black and Cadmium Red along with a generous amount of Black Oil wax medium. This batch is my winter mixture. It is thinner and does not gel up like the summer batches that are thicker and resists melting in the hot sun.  Then I added smaller amounts of Ultramarine Blue, Qinacrodone Magenta, Cadmium yellow medium and Viridian Green because I just started seeing so much shimmering color in the rock on this bright day. After I set my colors out on my clean palette, I remembered after painting this subject 4 times before, that the light and cast shadows dramatically change the appearance of the head in the course of two hours. So I quickly laid in the underpainting so that I would have toned color to build upon. I used a technique of puzzle-piecing and building surfaces upon surfaces that the black oil wax medium affords me. All great paintings are created less out of a sense of growing shapes that are mixed into each other and more of building an effect upon existing passages of color. Most of what I built upon other colors were the shadow shapes upon the under-painted colors in the sunlight. The islands in the far distance were beautifully violet-blue with accents of browns and green halation accents that created a glow in the distance and acted as a tension color to set off the field of warm ochre color in the headland. So much of Acadia rock formations are completely complementary in shape but also color with water and islands that surround them. It is no wonder that Acadia National Park is often said to be amongst America's Most Beautiful Islands. 

In this painting, I went with a slightly afternoon lighting and chose to gradate the sky to a darker and brighter blue upon the top of the cliff. The sky near the horizon was a beautiful warm teal and much lighter in value. The water was rough with whitecaps and a rich green sea water with violet-green reflections danced just below the headland's base which became a perfect opposite of the pinkish orange rock above. This made the lighter blue accents glow with light. I also included a dark ocean current shape to emphasize the cold waters of winter as having  the same strength as the timeless glacial rock. You can't expect wispy values to represent water against such a powerful rock. It would be like  a skinny, spindly, and anemic fighter going up against a hulking muscular athlete. The battle would be over before it started because they don't seem to belong in the same ring together. It is always better to match the water's values with the strength of the coastal rock with at least a strong reflection if not deep valued water. This adds to the drama of the match between the very different and dynamic nature of water vs rock. 

"Hurricane Surf at Great Head" a watercolor 20 x 26 inches painted in 1999 by Michael E. Vermette. 

One of my goals is to come out here when there is a storm and waves as high as ten feet or more as with hurricane Gurt in 1999.  I painted a watercolor of Great Head in plein air the week that hurricane hit the Acadia shore. The waves were so huge that day and dangerously powerful that you felt like you could never take your eyes off the sea. It was the same day two tourist were swept out to sea to their deaths at Schoodic Point; backs to the waves, trying to get a picture of themselves against that drama. There is no doubt that you have to be careful with the sea and never take your eyes off it. And rogue waves like this one you really can't see coming. They simply rise higher and higher until they envelop you and carry you out to sea. 

I started painting this study at 11:30 am and finished around 2:00 PM. I had to stop because the painting had completely changed and I needed to get back. I knew I had a significant ledge to climb out of, so I just assessed the terrain and slowly worked my way up with pack on my back and wet paint carrier over my shoulder. I had my Sorrels boots on, my snowsuit and ski pants underneath. Moving was not easy with all those layers, but it felt good to be actually hiking again. Once I finally arrived atop the ridge where the trail ran I found it a lot easier going and back-tracked on the broken foot path up the head land where I originally hike out from.

Laughter and Fun on the Great Head Road on the way to Great Head. Karry Maldanado on the left,

Michael E. Vermette in the center and Alison Dibble to the right. photo taken by Kay Carter whom

also went on the paint-out. 

I was mindful the whole time that if I fell or injured myself, it would be hours before anyone would be able to come to my rescue. So, just as it was important to keep a respectful attitude toward this wild places that I paint like this one, I also know that I am never completely alone. The spirit is with me guiding me back and through to paint another day. This painting was a very satisfying and motivating experience. Great Head trail was a great paint-out that I shared with my Plein Air Connection Friends, Kay Carter, Karry Maldanado, and Alison Dibble. Although we all go our separate ways to paint throughout the day, we always rejoin the group after and discuss our paintings over a cup of hot tea, laughter and the enjoyment of each other's company in mutual respect. And that to me is as satisfying as the painting process itself.

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