Travel as Art Inspiration
This post was originally written in 2017, when a world isolated by a global pandemic was unthinkable. From the perspective of 2020, I value my travel experiences even more, and I eagerly anticipate exploring Europe once again.
Inspiration with every step
People ask me where I get the inspiration for my artwork. Much of it comes from my travels in Europe with my husband; we visit historic cities to admire the architecture and learn about the culture. I am fascinated by the visual combination of beautiful structures and the pattern of people walking, interacting, and simply living their daily lives.
I take hundreds of candid photos to use as inspiration for my artwork. I like to capture a moment that indicates what is happening and what might happen next. I want to photograph people at the moment when their pose is dynamic and you can sense the motion, like the woman above with the yellow umbrella, or the one on the right with the orange skirt flowing around her legs.
Often getting these shots is a matter of being at the right place at the right time. The Roman philosopher Seneca said that "luck is what happens when preparation meets opportunity". Well, I prepare to be as lucky as possible with my photo opportunities!
Chris and I plan visits to museums, parks and cafés where I tend to find appealing subjects. I also make sure my camera is at hand as we sightsee so I can quickly photograph anything I notice. Sometimes I’ll try to just sit in a likely spot waiting for people to compose themselves in an interesting way. But this requires patience, which is not my strong suit.
My Favorite Subjects
On our last vacation we traveled with a tour group part of the time. I had told my fellow travelers that I was an artist and that I painted from my photos. After they noticed me lagging behind the group to get photos of something that had caught my eye, they asked what I felt made a good subject. I said that I was looking for "attractive people, doing interesting things, in a beautiful setting, in the perfect light." Which NEVER happens. I never get all four things at once. But if I can get two or three of these I can make it work.
I do have certain themes I like to revisit. I'm inspired by café scenes, waiters in uniform, people with hats, red cars and scooters, bicycles, beaches, umbrellas, and people experiencing something wonderful together. I'm always on the lookout for these classic subjects as we spend our day sightseeing. If I keep my eyes open and don't rush I'll frequently notice something that will become a great shot. Also, my husband Chris knows my themes and is great at spotting potential subjects for me.
Sometimes I know right away when I take a photo that it's a winner, but often it's not until I comb through my images later that something gives me that hum of inspiration and that happy anticipation of turning the everyday scene into art. Often I will visualize how I can combine several photos to tell a compelling story.
Travel photos that become oil paintings
As we walk the streets of a beautiful city and I spot a group of potential subjects, I’ll use my telephoto lens to get the photo without being noticed. I try hard to not be intrusive because I know that Europeans consider it rude to take someone's photo without their permission.
I understand and respect this. But for my work it's essential that my subjects don't realize they are being photographed or they would become self-conscious and my photos would loose their natural feel. What they don’t understand is that the people in my paintings are always loosely painted and not recognizable. But it’s not possible for me to convey that information and still get my candid photo.
So I try to be as unobtrusive as possible; I use a very small camera with a longer than normal zoom lens and stand at a distance. That gives me the best chance to get photos of natural-looking moments that I can turn into dynamic oil paintings. The potential of taking a snapshot that will be an inspiration for my next artwork is what keeps me traveling and taking photos.