The team is paramount

Tåkesangen (Song of the Mist) by Al R. Young

Tåkesangen (Song of the Mist) was painted by the artist in the studios at Ben Haven.

dimensions (unframed width x height)
30 3/8 in. x 42 3/8 in. — lefthand panel
8 ft. x 4 ft. — center panel
30 3/8 in. x 42 3/8 in. — righthand panel

support
Panel

milestones
Painting completed — 2020 August

Based on regular entries in the project journal for this painting, creation of the artworks involved approximately 83 sessions (from composition and panel preparation to completion of brushwork).

equipment created or modified for this project
Owing to toxic and allergenic materials involved in creating this painting, it was necessary to create an outdoor studio. An already roofed and partially walled enclosure was selected and the following equipment and built-in features were added to the space:

Bug (glazing) tent
Overhead lighting
Painter's taboret (made from a moving dolly)
4x4-post easel
Installation of iron garden shelves for equipment storage
Installing a flat screen television
Creating a large, drafting-table-style easel

costumes, miniatures, and props created for this project
None.

methodology
This section presents only one or two items that may be of interest to professional artists, amateurs, and others interested in the work of the Studios.

Every project undertaken by an artist or a studio, shapes the artist, the artist's work, and the studio.

This particular commission was several years in coming (i.e., a proposal was submitted long before construction was tentatively scheduled to begin).  After the proposal, a significant period of waiting ensued.  When a decision was finally made, the project was instantly coupled with the horsepower of business management's focus on profit and loss, which was--as is always the case—quite short on time.  I have never known such a coupling to be otherwise.  A business that is not tight on time, even in funding its research and development efforts, probably isn't really a business.  Additionally, by the time design proposals for this project were reviewed and accepted, much of the substance of the Studios' original proposal had changed materially.  For example, the triptych was not originally to have been a triptych, but a single, large oil painting already selected from the Studios' portfolio of completed, original artworks.
So, with the deadline clock already ticking and a timeline that would turn the project into a racetrack sprint, I embarked upon the creation, from scratch, of what would turn out to be nearly 50 square feet of hand-wrought oil painting.  Considering the oeuvre of my work as an artist, whatever else this triptych might be thought to represent, it certainly ranks among the craziest things I've ever attempted.  I share this because it's one thing to be an artist, which all by itself is a lifelong journey, but it's something else entirely to be an artist for hire.
The most foresighted, competent, and diligent efforts in design and even construction are invariably subject to changes arising from a breathtaking spectrum of sources.  That's just the way things are.  In fact, design that seeks to preclude all surprises actually winds up precluding creativity and outcomes better than could have been anticipated.  Creativity is best aided by absolutely thorough and enlightened preparation; nevertheless, along the way toward implementation and completion of the work itself, possibilities will inevitably arise, usually in the guise of problems.  And how those problems are addressed determines whether a well-planned project turns out okay or becomes something far better than imagined.

Knowing that paint doesn't dry on any schedule but its own, the Studios worked closely with the design and construction team to build into the work as much elasticity as possible in terms of the paintings, and to preclude, to the greatest possible extent, any collisions among construction work and deliverables that might jeopardize not only the creation of the paintings, but might actually result in damage to them, particularly in the event that the artworks had to be installed before they had had sufficient time to dry.

These considerations were addressed by the team as a whole from the inception of the project, with the result that the work got done, installation was successful, and even changing deadlines were met.  For example, the Studios was invited to participate in the on-site visit that launched the design project.  That foresight on the part of this design team ensured that Studios' expertise concerning the myriad considerations involved in creating, delivering, and installing the commissioned artworks was present and active from the outset.  For that foresight alone—something all too rare—the design team deserved a medal.

By the time the site visit occurred, the COVID pandemic was just beginning.  The team would weather a full-scale societal shutdown and pandemic considerations all the way to project completion.
As part of creating the triptych, I went through seven significant alterations to the composition of the paintings, and most of those changes occurred after brushwork began.  Some of those changes originated with the patron, others arose from my own work with the image as I discovered unforeseen problems.  As it turned out, the way the patron changes were addressed by the Studios actually helped shorten the production timeline.

Health considerations (unrelated to the pandemic), surrounding our at-home studios, escalated to the point that it became necessary to move the entire project outdoors.  This occurred midway of the brushwork.
We had a plein air studio, but the limitation presented by its low ceiling meant that I couldn't stand and paint.  The narrowness of that studio also meant that I couldn't paint any of the triptych panels side by side.  Resolving these roadblocks meant devoting valuable weeks to a significant enlargement of the plein air studio.  I decided that the time-cost of such an enlargement was justified.  Accordingly, we completed not only the renovation of an adjacent and suitably spacious area, but we created a drafting-table-style easel flanked by enough space to accommodate the triptych's thirteen linear feet.  Having resolved the space problem, it was also necessary to outfit the area so that I could work anywhere along the linear footage of the paintings.
I remained far too busy to keep track of bugs removed from paintings, but an early experience with only the righthand panel netted, or perhaps glued, about fifty red clover mites to the surface of the artwork during a single drying session.  The project journal for these paintings even includes a few suggestions on pest removal techniques that avoided smears.

As it turned out, I only rarely had all three panels in line, preferring to paint on them individually and, as often as possible, to put the wet panel up on one of the other easels in the plein-air area to dry out of harm's way.  Of course, drying a painting outdoors presented its own wildlife problems.  That's why the foregoing list of equipment created for this project includes a "bug tent" large enough to house the center painting.  For the flanking paintings, I simply used plastic sheeting to enclose the panels individually, taking care to protect the wet surface of each panel from the plastic as well as bugs.  And, since bugs weren't enough of a problem, itinerate neighborhood cats required the regular use of a bird net to keep cat paws and hair from becoming part of the paintings while panels rested on the draft-table-easel.
Of course, commuting between the long-established routine of the indoor studio and the need to campout in the plein-air area required the arrangement of tools and materials in such a way that I could spend as little time as possible setting up, taking down, and running back and forth between indoor and outdoor studios.  Lighting was its own problem.

With workspace and equipment once again ready for work, I had to deal with completing the paintings in the longest stretch of record-breaking summer heat in the region's recorded history.  That was accomplished simply by working during the coolest hours of the day; even so, I learned to be wary of the signs of heat stroke.  Like the bug tallies, I didn't take time to record everything, but looking back over the period from July 25 – August 25, the average daytime high was just over 95F.

The move outdoors also coincided with the most active wildfire season on record, not only locally, but in regions feeding our prevailing winds so that wildfire smoke, as it always does, piles up against the western slopes of the Wasatch Range even if the fires are burning on the west coast of North America.

Finally, in the closing weeks of the project, the deadline for delivery of the paintings was moved up.
Lessons learned from projects like this last a lifetime.  Much has already been gleaned, but hopefully it's obvious from the focus of this summary that one of the most important considerations in taking on any project is the integrity, experience and maturity, motivations, and character qualities of team members.  The normal course of things in such collaborative efforts, not to mention the you've-got-to-be-kidding-me things that arise unexpectedly, make choosing the right team paramount.

Tags: 3.00.00304.010, 2020, Project commentaries