"Gate to the Notch from Mount Willard, NH"

The following is the second journal entry on February 20th, of Michael E. Vermette's Artist-in-residency at Crawford Notch at the Appalachian Mountain Club's new Outdoor Highland Center in the White Mountain National Forest, New Hampshire. The duration of his residency was a week long, between February 19 to February 25th, 2017. In this time he created 11 paintings that were made completely outdoors en plein air within the region. Sometimes near the lodge, other times hiking up to 5 miles to and from a site on snowshoes with his studio on his back, he painted in the coldest weather and most challenging conditions. Each day he would provide either a program or an Open Studio displaying two new paintings each day between 4PM and 6 PM for the guests at the AMC Highland Center. This is his story.

 Show Up and Be On Time

After warming up at the AMC Highland Center Lodge and taking a hearty lunch, a lunch to march on, I set my sights on tackling perhaps the longest hike of the residency. Inspired by the "Brush and Pen" documentary film by Andrea Melville the night before, and a long talk with AMC mountain guide and personal friend Nancy Ritger, I was excited to hike to a dramatic location. She told me that most artists now-a-days paint the landscape near the lodge and that I was the exception who actually hiked up the trails for the mountain views. Of course my intention was to capture views from different perspectives on the mountain, but I had no idea what to expect. So I was determined, as In my workshops and residencies of the past here, to venture out and acquire these same mountain views that I painted in watercolor and oil in previous seasons. It was in that spirit that I decided to hike Mount Willard for a view of "the gate of the notch" as the renowned Thomas Cole put it.

With my studio on my back and my newly acquired snowshoes from the AMC Center on my boots, I began hiking the 2.5 mile trail. I hiked past Crawford Railroad Station, across the tracks and took the Mount Willard trail left off the main trail. It started out flat at first then it soon began to ascend. I began to notice just how much snow had accumulated in the national forest. In fact many of the waterfalls were buried with snow and a scant few deep holes or crevasses appeared. They allowed you to get a glimpse of the water flowing under the snow and ice that was four to five feet deep below. Not the best subject to paint, unless you might be interested in painting a pile of snow and ice in a ravine. And it wouldn't be without its risks too. Because To get close enough to actually peer into one of these holes to view the water, you would have to snowshoe off the trail and risk falling through to almost curtain tragedy if you got too close. So I stuck to my plan and stayed on the trail.

After several rests on my asscent up the mountain trail and watching one hiker after another pass me and come down with only hiking boots on, I too decided to take my snowshoes off, attach them to my pack, and continue to hike up in my boots. I found it much faster and easier to climb but I still it felt a lot like I was climbing the Chilkoot trail during the Klondike Gold Rush. But my treasure was a different type of gold; it was to experience and capture a painted sketch of the Gate of the Notch. In fact, as long as you stayed on the trail it wasn't bad at all. But once you veered off the trail you risked "post holing" which is a term the guides use when you break through the snow deeply sometimes 3 to 4 feet. After over an hour of hiking and resting the snowy trail eventually began to level out and I began to realize that the summit was near. I got more elated with expectation at each foot fall as I came out of the tree line and it opened up into a spectacular view of overlapping mountains sloping down into the notch. Earlier, when hiking, I could tell I was close to my painting site when I would hear the expressions of "OOOHs and AHHHHs" from hikers who went on before me. The view was so amazing you stood on the ledge and peered out as far as the eye could see. It felt like you could see forever, with mountains receding back in space layer after layer and bluer the further they receded on this perfectly bright day.

Although it was cold, the sun warmed the day without a cloud in sight. You could clearly see the upper train bed carved into the side of the mountains and the highway at the base of the notch winding their way in tandem through the valley until they both disappeared into the snowy landscape. I was struck visually by how stark the contrast was between the snow and exposed granite on Mount Webster to the left and Mount Field to the right. The snow was so bright, it was eye-aching and the rock beautifully rich in exquisite gray tones.

I set up immediately and began sketching and painting the oil study that I estimated would take a few hours. My plan was to capture the afternoon light of the notch as it was happening. Within that time, I met many hikers whom all had the same reaction to the massive panoramic view. I could see why in the 1850's they called this place and the whole White Mountain region "The Switzerland of America". The mountains were simply huge. They have that same effect on hikers and adventurers today as they did back then. I watched three ice climbers who took the time to take in the amazing view after climbing up the mountain with full climbing gear. All seemed pleasantly surprised to find me painting up there, sneaking a peek at my rendering now and then. But I didn't mind. After all, this was a shared view, a shared treasure that I would be remember for years to come. And in just a few hours I would be gone. Just like the rest of the hikers and climbers who's goal it was to experience this mountain view this day, I too would repacked my equipment, leave no trace behind, and return back down the mountain filled with experience and a story and my painted sketch.

My hike down was much easier. I stopped only a few times to rest, unlike the youthful ice climbers who gave me a huge head start. But soon I could hear their excited conversations echo down the mountain as they got closer to me and eventually whisk by me on the trail. I thought, what a wonderful thing to do with friends. These three men will probably remember this day all their lives.

As for me, tired and exhausted, I would get back to the AMC lodge just in time to hold my Open Studio. My Open Studio was scheduled between 4PM and 6PM. It was a classroom designated for me to use as my studio and gallery for ongoing work. The guests could witness a body of work actually being created during my week-long stay at the Highland Center. Some of the same guests who enjoyed my presentation the night before came back to check out what I painted on the day and we would get into delightful conversations about subject and art processes. I decided to framed each painting in a gold leaf plein air frame as I completed it. This helped me to release my sketch as a finished piece so that I could fully focus on my next painting subject. It also helped in building a nicer looking Open Studio Exhibit that would visually grow throughout the week. so far I had only two paintings in the collection, but they were great experiences.

I like this view from Mount Willard because of the way the composition draws the eye into the notch, propelling the viewer into the distance. I felt I was experiencing what Henry Thoreau once wrote about regarding the White Mountains as "Places of experience; an amphitheater of mountains." It is this first hand visual experience that I am after. It is what plein air paintings are really all about for me. In a place like this, your mind is at rest and can take in the beauty as if you were in an art gallery. Literally everywhere you turn there is a new painting that complements the ones next to it. 

In closing I will leave you with this one though. It is simply this; though land owners and governments may own land, it is the plein air painters who owns the landscape. And that ownership was hard to hide as a smile broke through on my face hiking down that mountain today. Tomorrow I know, will bring a new experience. But for now I will savor this today; for tomorrow, I know, My job, is to simply show up and be on time!