Storm Over the Grove

"Storm Over the Grove", monotype, 19 x 12", © Mary Bentz Gilkerson

“Storm Over the Grove”, monotype, 19 x 12″, © Mary Bentz Gilkerson

$425 (unframed) + $10 shipping and handling

I’m framing up this monotype along with several others for a solo exhibition that opens at the Sumter Gallery of Art on November 6th. I’m looking forward to seeing the paintings and prints, large and small, in the same space.
The monotype process has played a huge role in my growth as a painter. The monotypes feed the paintings and right back again. The process is much more quick and immediate with a large monotype, something close to the immediacy of the small daily paintings.
So what’s a monotype?? Monotypes are painterly prints, one-of-a-kind prints that straddle the line between painting and printmaking. They are usually made by painting an image on a Plexiglass plate which is run through a press to transfer the image to paper. The Plexiglass plate doesn’t retain the image so the plate can’t be repeatedly printed as in other printmaking processes.
Want to try it for yourself? Join me for a weekend introduction to the monotype process. There are just 4 spots left in my upcoming monotype workshop November 7-9 here in Columbia. The workshop fee includes materials and paper, just bring your imagination. The process will transform the way you paint.

Fall Sunset Over the Marsh

"Fall Sunset Over the Marsh", oil, 4 x 6", © Mary Bentz Gilkerson

“Fall Sunset Over the Marsh”, oil, 4 x 6″, © Mary Bentz Gilkerson

$235 + $10 shipping and handling
The light over the marsh as the sun goes down is pure gold this time of year, liquid light melting over the grasses. There’s no water showing since the tide was out, leaving the shorter, more mauve grasses exposed.

Fall Marsh, Low Tide

"Fall Marsh, Low Tide", oil, 4 x 6", © Mary Bentz Gilkerson

“Fall Marsh, Low Tide”, oil, 4 x 6″, © Mary Bentz Gilkerson

$235 + $10 shipping and handling

Last weekend I spent lots of time watching the tide change over the marsh and creek on Edisto Island, my favorite place in the world.

This is the same stretch of marsh as the painting I last posted, but at low tide, there’s very little water in the marsh. The landscape becomes a field of variations in sage greens and golds with a distant blue in the ocean beyond the dunes.

The way that the grass shifts in color based on the time of day and direction of the light is just endlessly fascinating!

Marsh, Fall High Tide

"Marsh, Fall High Tide", oil, 5 x 7", © Mary Bentz Gilkerson

“Marsh, Fall High Tide”, oil, 5 x 7″, © Mary Bentz Gilkerson

$325 + $10 shipping and handling

Fall brings a special light to the Carolina coast, a more indirect one that illuminates instead of bleaching everything out.

One of my favorite things to do, is quite literally, to watch the tide change. The marsh in front of the house I rent in the fall floods at the high tide and becomes a grassy expanse at low tide.

The color of the grass dramatically changes depending on where the light is coming from.

Taken altogether, it means I don’t have to go far to find something to paint.

Scott Creek, Fall High Tide

"Scott Creek, Fall High Tide", oil, 4 x 6", © Mary Bentz Gilkerson

“Scott Creek, Fall High Tide”, oil, 4 x 6″, © Mary Bentz Gilkerson

$235 + $10 shipping and handling

The early morning light casts the marsh grass on either side of Scott Creek on Edisto Island in dark muted earth greens.

The morning light was flickering on the breakers  and the water covering part of the marsh at high tide. What is flooded now will be dry later at low tide.

While the grass is muted now, the moment that the sun strikes it later in the day, it turns bright green.

Minervaville, Fall Sunset

"Minervaville, Fall Sunset", oil, 4 x 6", © Mary Bentz Gilkerson

“Minervaville, Fall Sunset”, oil, 4 x 6″, © Mary Bentz Gilkerson

$235 + $10 shipping and handling

I love the evening skies in the fall and winter, but particularly the fall. It seems like the shift in light comes on suddenly somewhere about October 1st and the sun heads to the south, leaving low angled raking light that suddenly drops below the horizon and disappears.

The fields and trees, even when still green, are taking on a more dusty, faded green, a warmer color that’s a precursor of the reds and yellow of late October and early November.