Autumn on the East Coast is revered as an artist’s heaven. Brisk weather, changing fall leaves, and brilliant sunsets offer ever-stunning scenes to paint, sketch, and find inspiration. Having lived in California my whole life, I’ve never really understood the concept of “Fall”. While we have the Japanese Maples that burst into bold, rich reds and Valley Oaks that shed their leaves, it’s a stark difference compared to the blanket of orange, crimson, and gold that grace every corner of the Eastern United States.
In late October, I boarded what can only be described as a glorified bush plane and landed in a small town in southeast New York. I was headed to visit James and Jeanette Gurney, two of my parents closest friends, for a few days of sketching and discussing art. James Gurney attended UC Berkeley at the same time as my dad, and they were fortunate enough to find each other as roommates in the dormitories. Both young students had a fervent passion for art — James had worked in calligraphy and lettering art, and my dad had obsessively painted everything in his sight prior to arriving at Berkeley. They inspired each other endlessly, both creatively and in humorous pranks, resulting in a lifelong friendship.
Upon arrival in New York, I was awestruck by the surrounding landscape. A myriad of decrepit buildings, pastures of spotted brown cows, and of course, the Hudson River all passed by on our drive toward their home. James and Jeanette spoke eloquently of the history of the area, referencing artists such as Thomas Cole, Asher Durand, and Frederic Church who were among the members of the Hudson River School. These artists, too, had been enamored by the area and spent a great deal of time painting works that are well-known for capturing the unique beauty of the Hudson River, and the Adirondack, Catskill, and White Mountains.
Studying art, writing about art, and practicing various mediums of art have been at the core of James and Jeanette’s life work. James is the author and illustrator of the Dinotopia series, along with several other bestselling instructional art books. Sketching in the open air (or en plein air) has particularly become a special part of their everyday practice. They incorporate it whenever possible, bringing along sketchbooks and portable watercolor kits in fanny packs on all of their outings, no matter how small. After all, you never know when the perfect scene will appear!
Gouache painting by James Gurney done en plein air with Jeanette Gurney and Winsor Kinkade
On this trip, every day held different subject matters found outside the walls of a studio: miniature horses that live at a nearby farm, a quintessential Autumn scene, a tricky street intersection (well, tricky for me), and an old lawn chair. Drawing on a wealth of knowledge accumulated from a lifetime of practice, the Gurney’s are experts in the field of sketching en plein air, and it was a pleasure and a privilege to learn from them.
Gouache painting by Winsor Kinkade of bar stools at a favorite local diner of the Gurneys.
Gouache painting by Winsor Kinkade done en plein air with James Gurney, Jeanette Gurney, and Louis Munroe.
The gallery and library at Vassar College were considered “must see’s” while visiting. We spent an afternoon reveling in the work of the Hudson River School artists. They are categorized for their landscapes of detailed—sometimes ideallized—scenes, where humans and nature coexist peacefully. We noted their expert use of light and value, and James and Jeanette explained the artists’ various techniques of capturing the essence of clouds, distance, and mood.
We sat around the table each evening swapping memories of my dad, mom, James, and Jeanette’s adventures. My dad left Berkeley after his sophomore year to move to Los Angeles, and James joined him once he graduated. In LA, the two artists studied together at Art Center, lived in the same apartment complex with Jeanette and my mom (if those walls could talk), and eventually worked side by side as background painters for Ralph Bakshi and Frank Frazetta’s Fire and Ice.
Growing up, I loved hearing tales of “Jim and Thom”: wild stories of when they hopped the freight trains across North America, slept under bridges, sketched and interviewed people they met along their travels, and pitched their harebrained book concept to publishers (the book, The Artist’s Guide to Sketching, actually got published, and it is incredible, I might add). We marveled at the antics they got away with, laughed at old photos and hair styles, and reminisced about things “Thom” would say and do. It was magical, wholly inspiring, and bittersweet all at once.
I longed for my dad to be sitting at the table helping us piece together memories, adding a howling laugh to the mix. But he wasn’t, and as painful as that is, there’s a sense of peace knowing that despite this fact, the intense awe of and passion for art is lived on through his friends, family, and through me.
The time I spent with James and Jeanette offered me a refreshed sense of how I view art: as a necessary part of life, a deep breath, something for ourselves. It’s easy to allow self-judgement to snuff out the sparks of creativity, letting the fear of not being “good enough” or not making something that people will like stop you before you even begin. I was reminded of an important lesson both James and my dad held to be true: in the moment when an artist feels like giving up and scrapping it all is the exact time to keep pressing forward.
Thank you Gurney’s for the hospitality, art lessons, and belly-laughs. It was a trip I will not soon forget!
Follow James on instagram @jamesgurneyart or visit his website jamesgurney.com