Schooner Hunter ~ Chasing the Nathaniel Bowditch and the Lewis R. French

Two of the oldest schooners in the Maine fleet had eluded me for years.  I had been out on the water quite often in the twelve years we lived in Camden, Maine, including during the annual Great Schooner Races and Windjammer Weekends, but never managed to photograph either under full sail.  I never owned my own boat but always wanted to, so I was always at someone else’s mercy when it came to getting out on the water to photograph the graceful schooners. 

Now living in Virginia and traveling to Maine every other summer for a few weeks, photographing the schooners was becoming even harder.  What if the weather was bad?  What if there wasn't any wind and the schooners were just sitting there?  What if I couldn’t get someone to take me out on their boat?  I could rent a motorboat for a day or two but it would be expensive; the Maine waters are challenging, I don’t have much experience captaining boats (I say with a flair for understatement) and I have what some would say is an irrational fear of sharks! 

One summer I finally captured both the Nathaniel Bowditch and the Lewis R. French under full sail under rather unique and somewhat humorous circumstances.  The first day out on the Penobscot Bay on this particular trip was with my long time Maine golfing buddy Charlie.  We had talked about going in on a boat together for years even though neither of us were boaters.  We never did but he finally broke down and bought a 13 foot skiff with a 40 horsepower engine to putt (pun intended) around the bay in.  He has a young son and it was perfect for the two of them to go fishing in or explore an island together. 

Charlie generously offered to take me out and spend a few hours chasing the schooners around Camden Harbor.  The schooners had all gathered the night before for Windjammer Weekend.  Well sure enough we get out on the water in his relatively small skiff on the big Penobscot Bay and the wind is still.  All the schooners are just sitting there.  The Bowditch and the Lewis R. French are nowhere to be seen. Even if the wind was blowing big and the schooners were heeling and flying across the bay, how could this little skiff manage to keep up or even stay afloat?  Even big boats get tossed around in the open Maine waters! 

Charlie, like an old sea captain, but really a golfer, all of a sudden spotted the Bowditch way off on the horizon.  He hit the gas knowing how much I wanted a shot of it.  The little skiff had more juice than I had imagined and fortunately with the water calm we managed to close the gap between us and the Bowditch in a matter of minutes.  I looked around and we were way offshore.  I was starting to get a little nervous thinking of all that could happen to us.  Charlie noticed that the wind was picking up a bit, spotted some ripples on the water and informed me to get my camera ready.  Next thing I knew the Bowditch’s sails filled and it started racing down the bay, heading toward Gilkey’s Harbor, away from Camden!!!!!  

Storm clouds were on the horizon, it looked like rain and here we were a couple of golfers way out on the Penobscot Bay in a 13 foot skiff with a little 40 horsepower engine running all out trying to keep up with the 90 year old schooner Bowditch!  I could see the determination, fighting spirit and a twinkle in Charlie’s eyes!  He was throwing caution to the wind and going for it.  Thanks to Charlie I managed to get the photos of the Bowditch I was looking for.  We made it home safely and I will always be grateful to my golfing and boating friend for going out of his way (even though he put both our lives in jeopardy) for helping me hunt down the Nathaniel Bowditch! Pictured below are Charlie in action and my painting that captured the Bowditch titled Offshore Challenge.

Offshore Challenge

A couple of days later, the last day before the schooners were to head back to their local waters, I had arranged to go out on my good friend Caroline’s brother’s boat with Caroline as captain.  I still hadn’t captured the Lewis R. French, the oldest of America’s schooner fleet at 141 years of age.  Caroline is an accomplished sailor, growing up on the Maine waters.  She’s skippered her family's sailing yacht many a race from Camden to Castine in the worst of weather.  I wasn’t worried about this outing at all.  It would be on one of the largest Whalers made, with three huge, I’m guessing 300 Horsepower engines and a highly skilled captain!  The weather was good, the wind was blowing and all of the schooners were zipping all over the Bay. 

Well, I forgot to factor into my comfort level on this particular outing that my friend Caroline has the need for speed.  This wasn’t her mother’s sailboat!  The schooners looked like little white blips on the radar, scattered all over the vast choppy bay.  Which one was the Lewis R. French? 

One second I was getting my camera ready, the next I was holding onto my hat with one hand and a metal railing with the other. I was holding on for dear life!  We were almost airborne, barely tickling the whitecaps. The large Whaler with Caroline at the wheel reduced the giant waters to what seemed like a swimming pool.  What if there was a log floating in the water or a whale was to surface?  If the boat were to hit something, I envisioned myself being ejected hundreds of feet into the air and into shark infested waters! :-0  We flew all around the bay I’m sure much to the annoyance of the sailing crowd, taking pictures of every schooner until we finally found the Lewis R. French under full sail!  As we pulled alongside, I let loose of my death grip, I wiped the spray from my face as tears of joy filled my eyes and I started taking pictures of the last schooner on my list.

My mission was accomplished thanks to my good friends and their boats, large and small.  I had lucked out with the weather.  The photos were in the can, so to speak, and I would live to paint another day!

Pictured below is my painting of the Lewis R. French.

The Lewis R. French

Putting It All In Perspective ~ The MBNA Years

Moving to Maine and becoming a full-time self-employed artist was a big, and some might say risky decision for us.  I had worked in accounting for a number of years and even though I liked some aspects of it, I knew it wasn’t for me.  Fortunately, in Maine I got off to a good start getting my paintings into several galleries and my work was selling.  We were in a happy place when all of a sudden I was presented with a big life changing decision.

Mr. Charles Cawley, the CEO of MBNA America Bank N.A., the fast growing credit card company, was buying my paintings for the corporate offices around the country. We met at the grand opening of the Camden, Maine office where I thanked him for his interest in my work.  I was nervous to go up to him, wondering if he would have any idea who I was.  He was surrounded by people and it looked like he was holding court.  As the conversation died down, my wife and I approached him and I introduced myself as Bill Beebe.  The first thing he said is “You’re William to me” (which is how I sign my paintings).  What a charming way for him to let me know he knew who I was. 

After painting several commissioned paintings for him, he came to our house and presented me with a big opportunity.  How would I like to become the resident artist for MBNA, painting the office buildings that would be on the covers of the quarterly stockholder reports?    

I no longer would be my own boss, but I would have a very nice salary and benefits.    I would be painting office buildings on a regular basis.  I could still work at home in my studio. If I decided to take the job I would be working for a big corporation.

It didn’t take me long to make the decision.  Maybe it’s the practical side of me.  The thought of having my work on the cover of the quarterly reports going out to many thousands of stockholders was beyond my imagination.  The thought of a steady paycheck and top notch health care coverage for an artist was too good to be true. 

The new challenges were exciting.  I developed my skills with drafting equipment, using an architect’s elbow drafting arm and grid system to enlarge and produce the under drawings.  The majority of the time I would fly to the sites chosen to be on the next cover and photograph the building from various angles, trying to think creatively and envision what might make a good cover.  Sometimes as with the new headquarters in Wilmington, DE the office wasn’t complete before I was to paint it, so I would work from the architect’s construction plans and renderings. 

Here is my painting of the Wilmington headquarters for MBNA.  Since the building was under construction while I was painting it, there were a number of changes to the building that affected my painting mid-stream.  If one was to x-ray this painting you would find two sets of flags flying!  I had to paint over the first set of flags (an advantage of oil paints) and place the new flags in their final location.  This process earned me the title of “Evolutionary Painter”.

Next are two aerial perspectives I painted of Headquarters.  Fortunately, I wasn’t the photographer who had to hang out of the helicopter to take these pictures! 

Lastly, I thought I would share with you some of the other offices around the world that I painted, to give you some examples of the variety of architectural styles.

 

I had nine wonderful years painting for MBNA.  I enjoyed the challenges of drawing complex perspective drawings with drafting equipment, meeting deadlines, and seeing my finished work on the cover of each quarterly report.  Quickly I learned to paint with the cover in mind; meaning employing painting techniques which would reproduce well, concentrating on the richness of the colors, the amount of contrast in the painting, the lighting, etc…

Putting it all in perspective, now that I have the advantage of hindsight, Yogi Berra’s famous quote comes to mind “When you get to the fork in the road… Take it”.  Deciding to work for MBNA turned out to be the right decision at the right time for me.  Sometimes leaps of faith require mustering up a little courage, out of which much good can come!

Still Lifes Solve Real Life Mystery ~ What Ever Happened To….

Two doors down from my parent’s house growing up was the Railey house.  One of my best friends as a kid, Clay lived there.  Clay grew up and became a priest.  I grew up and eventually became an artist.  Not too long after my wife Jen and I were married my dad died.  The old neighborhood was changing.  My mom lived alone as a widow in our family home.  The Railey house turned over and an artsy couple with two children moved in.  The woman, Ria, I’m guessing was in her early forties and I was now in my mid-twenties.  She was a very attractive woman with a beautiful sounding European accent.  She would visit with my mom and eventually we all became good friends. 

I had been to art school, graduated with a Fine Arts degree and then decided to go back and get my accounting degree and was working in accounting.  My wife had started a salad dressing business that was taking off which also required a lot of my time. I unfortunately had little time for art.  One day Ria invited me down the street to her home to see a painting that she was working on.  I walked into my old friend Clay’s home and what was Clay’s basement, where we would pretend we were the Beach Boys banging on drums, was now Ria’s art studio.  I had no idea whether she was any good.  I did know that I liked Ria.  She wasn’t like anyone I had ever met before.  She was artistic, dressed with a flair and spoke beautifully. 

 There on her drafting table was a realistic oil painting of a cowboy on a horse that was so masterfully done it didn’t seem possible that someone had painted it.  She hadn’t quite finished the sky so it was obviously her unfinished painting.  I couldn’t believe how smooth it was, how rich the colors were.  How could she paint this? 

She enlightened me as to her use of masonite (painting on board) in order to develop a perfectly smooth surface.  It turns out that she had learned how to paint in the Netherlands, learning the traditional methods that the Old Masters employed.  She knew all the techniques and tricks of the trade that my teachers at the University of MD did not!  Most of my teachers encouraged Abstract Expressionism and other forms of modern art and discouraged Realism.  Turns out our neighbor down the street, Ria, was a master! 

We moved to Maine in 1990 and lost touch with Ria.  Last we heard, which was about 22 years ago, she was living in the mountains of North Carolina and she was painting her American Indian art.  We’ve often wondered over the years whether she was still painting and how she was doing etc…  Well this week we found out!

Jen was online researching new gallery representation when she discovered a gallery in Middleburg, VA.  Jen was in her office across the hall from my studio, perusing the artist roster when she yelled out to me that Ria DeWit was an artist at this gallery.  Could it be the same Ria that we knew???

Jen tracked down her phone number, called her and out of the blue we have reconnected with our long lost artist friend.  We both were so glad to find out that after over twenty years of being out of touch, she is well and is now painting masterful still life paintings.  Her son has inherited her gift and is also pursuing his art.  It was an emotional moment hearing Ria’s voice and knowing that this mystery had a happy ending. 

I tell this story because I want to share with you a few of her magnificent still life paintings. We are excited about seeing her upcoming show in Leesburg, VA in May and can’t wait to get all caught up with our long lost artist friend Ria DeWit. 

 

 

Night at the Museum ~ Paintings Coming to Life!

I don’t know how many of you have seen the movie Night at the Museum with Ben Stiller but if you haven’t, it’s about the Museum of Natural History coming to life at night. Wax figures of people like Teddy Roosevelt and Amelia Earhart walk and talk, animals roam freely about, planes fly and there is life in inanimate objects. 

I was updating Blythe McGarvie, the subject of my portrait painting, on the progress of her portrait last night when I wrote in an email “It was such a fun day photographing you and KC at Harvard, it brings it all to life while I’m painting.” 

My painting is about three-quarters finished, at a stage that at first glace you might think I’m close to finishing.  The reality is I still have to work on likeness and paint in lots of tiny details.  As I’m painting in those tiny details, I’m painting in life! 

Everything in the painting represents something about my two subjects and the final touches will make all the difference: a twinkle in the eye, a shine on the shoes, a glow in the fireplace, a title on books etc…

Painting this portrait brings a smile to my face even after spending all day blocking in books on the bookcase.  Six shelves of books varying in size and color, tedious as it all is, with jacket covers reading Pavarotti, Lyric Opera News, Margaret Thatcher, Thomas Wolfe, Fit In Stand Out, etc… represent my subject's thirst for knowledge and her joie de vivre! 

I’m enjoying walking into my studio every morning and seeing a painting that gives off such good vibes.  As in the movie Night in the Museum, there is a history, a story if you will, behind the people in the painting. A portrait captures a moment in time but also symbolizes the past, the present and the future.

 Maybe this is the power of portraiture! 

Speaking of Plein Air Painting vs. Studio Painting ~ My Cousin Brian and Me!

In my last blog I wrote about the fiasco of my first and last experience painting plein air (on location).  Afterwards, I sold my French easel and bought a new pair of golf shoes with the money!  I eventually bought another French easel that resides in my studio for shifting wet paintings around and for using in my studio.  I still have that longing to try it again but because I’m trying to be as productive as possible and make a living painting, I see the romance of it all as more self indulgent.  I know the best use of my time is in the studio and I’ve been a studio painter for over 22 years.  Plus it would have been extremely hard to have painted plein air when I was painting ships at sea or seaside towns from the water. :-)  If I had been painting Maine landscapes or say Vermont landscapes then I might have been more open minded to giving plein air another try. 

The subject of Plein Air vs. Studio painting has sent me down memory lane.  I’ve had sleepless hours thinking about parallel lives, intermittently coming together affecting me more than I knew.  Here is what’s been on my mind: 

…There were no artists in our family that I knew of growing up.  I doodled with pencil because I liked the challenge of trying to reproduce something that I saw and the challenge of making it look real.  At one family reunion at my grandparents’ farmhouse in Iowa, I’m guessing I was 12, I remember standing out on the front porch with Grandpa Beebe, my Dad and my older cousin Brian (Sweetland).  Brian pulled out a sheet of paper and showed Grandpa a pencil portrait drawing that he had done of him.  I was taken back by the likeness.  It was masterful. The reaction to the drawing was one of amazement by everyone.  I didn’t know Brian drew too!  That portrait of Grandpa Beebe helped motivate me to improve my drawing skills and to try and be as good as my cousin Brian. 

Fast-forward and I’m in college having just taken my very first painting class which happened to be Portrait Painting.  I didn’t know what Brian was up to as our families only got together here and there.  One day I was over at his mother’s house and Brian pulled out a portrait in oil that he had done of his sister Mary Beth.  It was glazed to perfection and it looked like the Mona Lisa!   Seeing someone I knew well create something that I wanted to be able to do too, became another bright moment for me, opening my mind and helping to plant a seed.  For someone who is goal oriented and loves a challenge, like myself, little moments like that can be powerful.  In this case, it helped reaffirm my desire to change my major to Studio/Fine Art.

In 1977, right around the time I became an art student, I believe Brian was either working at the Corcoran Art Museum in Washington, DC or he was sketching there.  Anyway, he crossed paths with a master painter named Dean Fausett.  Dean took Brian under his wing after seeing Brian’s exceptional work; Brian moved to Vermont; learned traditional oil painting techniques from a master and has been painting in Vermont ever since.

 

In 1980 as a young married couple we went to Brian’s opening at a gallery in Middleburg, VA and bought our very first original oil painting. It was one of Brian’s snow covered mountain Vermont scenes.  We didn’t have much money but we knew we had to have it.  It’s been hanging in our dining room ever since.  We visited Brian and Mr. Fausett in Dorsett, VT soon thereafter.  Mr. Fausett had a huge painting he had painted of his beautiful, yellow clapboard historic wooden home on a big easel for us to see.  It had been featured in Yankee magazine.  A magnificent piece it was.  Was all of what I was taking in possible for me?  Could I become a full-time artist too? 

It took me until 1989 to decide I wanted to take a chance and become a full-time artist.  Knowing Brian was making a living painting in Vermont gave me some confidence that it could be a viable lifestyle choice.

For 22 years now I’ve been a studio painter, living 12 of those years in Maine and the last 10 years in Williamsburg, VA.  For the last 32 years Brian has been making his own paints from scratch, painting impressionist rural Vermont landscapes year round PLEIN AIR!  I’ve heard that he will paint on the coldest winter days on the hillsides of Vermont until his fingers can’t move.  Years ago, I heard he had a VW bus that he would seek warmth in and paint in after he was about frozen!  His impressionistic landscapes are sought after by collectors.  He believes that art should be for everyone and therefore keeps his prices intentionally low, sacrificing lifestyle and living a purist existence. 

He is the ultimate plein air painter in my mind.  My cousin Brian Sweetland, who I sadly haven’t seen in many years, is painting away plein air full-time while I enjoy painting away in my studio.  I admire his work ethic, his masterful brush work and I’m glad that he didn’t let the cold weather, bugs, wind, rain and hassles of plein air painting get to him and sell his French easel for a pair of golf shoes!