My work emerges from specific places—places I’ve developed a relationship with over time. There’s something alluring, something that brings me back again and again to the Kansas River, or Kaw, and its 173 miles of continuous transformation. I’m drawn into the river’s current and ancient coursing—this ongoing adventure of water and sand and weather over time, which is always different now than it was the minute before.
Some river reaches are bound geologically and remain largely stable over centuries while others shift dramatically every time I visit them. Science can explain much about the river and flow dynamics, the myriad of unseen organisms, and everything that makes a river a living system. My observations are not scientific in the classical sense, but like a scientist, I’m drawn to observing and documenting the river’s wild abstract patterns and shapes I discover while walking, paddling, and flying across miles of water and sand.
The oil paintings in this show are views of the river from above, using footage I’ve taken from a small plane flying at 500–1000 feet or drone footage up to 400 feet in altitude. I’m drawn to either end of the day when the contrast of reflected light on the water and the darkening land is greatest.
I consider most of these paintings to be black and white, but colorful blacks and whites. I revel in the rich blacks that aren’t straight from the tube but mixtures of dark reds, greens, blues, and violets, to evoke more luminous depths. I carve out the sandbars, scrubby tree lines, and floodplain features with multidirectional brushstrokes in satiny black that catches light from various angles. The dense black is essential for making the highest visual contrast with the light areas. I want you to squint at the sun glints, and in the most brilliant areas, the whitest white of the paint is no more than titanium white with a hint of light yellow or orange. It’s the color and values around the white that create the optical effects of sunlight and shimmer.
Even with all the technology I employ in capturing and processing digital images of the river, I still believe in the power of paint to express emotion and captivate the viewer’s senses, especially when they experience the work in person. The whole process is very physical for me—from spending time on a reach of the river to literally reaching across large canvases to prepare the supports and create the paintings. Pushing viscous oil colors around with bristled sticks over canvas to create optical illusions and emotional depth seems absurd if I think too much about it. I’m trying to convey a sense of atmosphere, shifting colors, the mercurial current reflecting the skies’ light, the dark earthy textures of sandbars and landforms, as well as the aircraft’s movements circling over.
There’s nothing like the act of painting to really see and develop affection for places, and for me, it is a way to honor the river, one painting at a time. Every day I drink the Kaw from the tap along with 800,000 other Kansans. Paddling and exploring sandbars is one of my favorite things to do. How can I possibly reciprocate? Every painting is an attempt to give something back––to share my affection for this river and put it on the map visually. I see my role as bringing it into the consciousness of the community and hopefully fostering a deeper appreciation of its beauty and importance.
Lisa Grossman 2024