Utah artist Lane Bennion finds subjects for paintings were I, for one, would never think to look for them.

I’m fascinated in particular with his recent series of oils of interiors of department stores and malls. Here he finds intricate grids of light and shadow, geometric latticeworks of colorful planes, and compositions in which he meets the challenge of creating strong statements from the daunting complexity of a multiplicity of small objects.

Bennion’s older work shows a fascination with complexity as well, with compositions of toys jumbled in piles and street scenes with piles of trash and scattered objects. He also has a nice series of paintings of small carnivals and amusement arcades at night, which fall in with the way he revels in the artificial lights in the the store interiors, bright contrasts of light and dark, punctuated with the intense colors of painted surfaces.

You can view the work on his site through the link for Recent Works or the Archive, where you will also find some more traditional landscape subjects as well as outdoor scenes win which industrial or commercial structures and equipment take a prominent role.

Bennion studied at the University of Utah, under artists like David Dornan, Paul Davis and Tony Smith. He later graduated from the Medical College of Georgia with a specialty in Medical Illustration, though I can’t find reference to medical illustrations by him online.

In addition to his web site, Bennion maintains two blogs Studies in Oil and Notes on Making Paintings.. The former includes quick studies of areas around his home and small still life subjects, and the latter focuses on his gallery work, though it also includes subjects not found on his main web site. Both of them feature larger images of many of his paintings (click on the image in the blog post), that allow you to see the brushwork that is not evident in the smaller reproductions.

[Suggestion courtesy of Karin Jurick]

Scale is an interesting aspect of painting and drawing. I’m always fascinated when artists choose to work at both relatively large and relatively small size, particularly when working with the same subject matter (see my posts about Thomas Paquette and his large oils and very small guoache paintings).

Philadelphia area painter Larry Francis also paints fairly large oils (perhaps 48×60″; 121x152cm), and small gouache paintings (around 11×14″; 27x35cm) . His subject matter, which is consistent in both types of paintings, includes an interesting range of ordinary subjects in and around Philadelphia.

By “ordinary” I mean commonplace scenes that would not be thought of as particularly scenic, like images of suburban houses and yards, typical city street corners, small sections of parks, neighborhood stores, bridges and other views, the like of which we pass by every day without thinking.

This, of course, is one of the things that art does best, to wake us to more alert observation of our surroundings and remind us that the ordinary is extraodinary, the commonplace worthy of notice and appreciation.

Even Francis’ views of the Schuylkill river, which could have been chosen from more scenic vantage points, instead are often views of bridges and bridge piers, the kind of view commuters might glance at without noticing day after day as they make their routine trips into center city along the river drives.

I particularly like his paintings of Schuylkill river bridges, which perhaps can be thought of as in the tradition of Thomas Eakins, who often included Schuylkill river bridges in his portrayals of scullers. Eakins obviously couldn’t have painted the Route 1 expressway bridge (foreground of the image at top, larger version here), though I have to think he might have included it had it existed at the time.

Francis consistently reveals beauty in the ordinary, with geometric arrangements of houses and commercial buildings arrayed in planes of light, broken with dappled shadows from vegetation and the horizontal bands of color in streets and sidewalks.

I was struck but the issue of scale because I had encountered an oil painting of his at the Pennsylvania Academy of the Fine Arts, where he is an instructor, showing a view of the Schuylkill river from the same vantage point as the one above, though wider in aspect and much larger in size, perhaps 4’x12′ (121x365cm). I was struck by the painting, and delighted to have the chance to see his small gouache paintings of the same area at his current show at the Gross McCleaf Gallery, which is focused in particular on his small gouaches.

I was also glad I had a chance to meet the artist at the opening, and I asked him about his approach. I had made an assumption because of the finessed attention to detail, and the unhurried feeling of relaxed observation evident in these small works, that he was working, at least in part, from photographic reference. He paints these gouache paintings on location, however, working perhaps two paintings a day to catch the different states of light, and returning to the scene two or three times to finish them.

Those in the Philadelphia area still have a chance to catch the show at the Gross McCleaf Gallery, which runs until this Saturday, January 24, 2009.

Charles Henri Joseph Leickert was a painter who would have been well suited to painting scenes of the freezing weather we’re currently experiencing in much of the United States.

Leickert was a Belgian born painter who lived and worked most of his life in the Netherlands. He specialized in winter landscapes, often with a “street scene” kind of view down a frozen river, lake or canal (image above with detail, larger version here). Most of his frozen river or lake paintings portrayed bustling activity, in which the citizenry would be out skating, ice fishing, pushing sleds filled with goods, and otherwise utilizing the frozen surface as a street.

He romanticized his scenes, frequently with towering dark clouds or brilliant dramatic lighting. He reveled in the eye candy of architectural details and the textures of brick, tile and stone.

He did balance out his oeuvre with images of summer, painting similar river or street scenes teeming with warm weather activity, and framing them with similarly dramatic skies filled with billowing clouds.

Leickert moved the Hague at a young age, and studied there under several Dutch landscape painters, including Andreas Schelfhout, who had a similar speciality in winter scenes, which had proved to be more popular than his other subjects.

The 19th Century Dutch art market seemed to have an appetite for winter scenes in which life appeared to go blithely on in spite of the cold.

Get the skates out.