Visit the Studio with Ella Yang

As the weather begins to warm up, we find ourselves getting antsy to get back outside. This week's studio visit with Ella Yang is perfect for getting us in the "spending hours outside" kind of mood! A phenomenal plein air painter, Ella reminds us of all the Brooklyn, farmland, and Italian landscape goodness soon to be enjoyed once again!

So put those heavy winter jackets away and let's breathe the fresh air as we enjoy some thoughtful insights into Ella's methodical, yet whimsical painting practice.

What are the materials you use and why?

Two things to know about me, as an artist, is that I am a nerd and am largely self-taught. Most of my art education comes from books and blogs on traditional oil painting techniques. However, I have taken up modern materials which allow me to be environmentally conscientious and enhance the archival value of my work.

The first driver for using oil paint is the paint itself. I have tried painting with acrylic and even watercolor paints, but I definitely prefer oil paints for a number of reasons. The texture of oil paint is smooth and buttery; you can feel the difference when applying it thickly or thinly to a surface. Oil paint can stay wet for a long time enabling you to rework areas during a long painting session; or with the addition of certain mediums, it can dry quickly overnight. Oil colors can range from very earthy to bright and plastic-like. My palette is dominated by what are referred to as “Classical” and “Impressionist” colors––those that were primarily developed through the 19th Century––because with these, a painter can capture the colors of the natural world.

The second driver are the mediums and solvents which are crucial elements of oil painting chemistry. Mediums are used to modify the consistency of paints; the visual quality (e.g. transparency), as well as drying speed. Solvents thin the paints; primarily to remove paint from brushes and palettes. I prefer to use mediums and solvents made by Gamblin, a company that is focused on reducing the toxicity of materials for the artist and the environment, while also improving the longevity of a finished painting.

Finally, there are the painting supports, such as canvas, linen and paper. In general, I choose the highest quality supports, usually heavy canvas or linen stretched on wood bars. Lately I have also been working on canvas mounted on archival panels which make them highly portable for painting outside, but are also considered more durable and preservable. That being said, I do love the bounce-back feel of the brush off the surface of a well-stretched canvas!

My priority is for a satisfying painting experience, while ensuring that the final product meets high standards of conservation quality. With this combination, a collector of my paintings can be confident that they are acquiring a beautiful and heirloom-worthy piece.

What is your artwork about? What does it speak to?

If this is not self-evident from looking at my paintings, then I don’t think I’m doing a good job! But ultimately, I paint to please myself, finding a moment of joy in everyday scenes; usually places or things I pass on a daily basis. As a lifelong outdoors enthusiast, plein air or on-site painting is an ideal artistic pursuit. I love to paint from life, but even with reference photos, I focus on “what’s in this scene that is (literally) on the bright side.” It definitely reflects my optimistic personality and the strong influence of my mother, who is always pointing out beauty in small details.

I love the challenge of mixing color combinations to capture a moment in time and space on a two-dimensional canvas. The best painting experience is when I am completely engaged by the subject and it becomes meditative. I have a magnet in my studio that says “I paint in order not to cry”, a quote by Paul Klee. A more positive spin would be that I paint to rid my mind of superfluous flotsam, a sort of long run mindfulness exercise to find joy and peacefulness.

Where do you get your inspiration?

I am a very visual person and when the sun is out, I see things to paint all the time––I particularly love the challenge of depicting light and shadow, things and their reflections in water, architectural details of old buildings and structures. I am heavily influenced by my environment, especially my home and studio neighborhoods, which offer historic brownstone buildings and dilapidated industrial plants. I am always interested in how the manmade interacts with nature. For example, I painted “Brownstone Backsides,” one summer morning because of the way the sun was reflecting off the windows on the backs of a row of historic brownstones in Park Slope, and there were trees and potted plants growing enthusiastically, as if trying to reclaim their space.

What is your typical routine when you get to the studio?

My painting life definitely has a seasonal cycle. I go to my studio when it is too cold or rainy for me to paint outside. When the weather is nice and I can paint outside, I will gather together my mobile painting supplies, put on my crappy painting clothes, and head out to some place I had scoped out previously, or sometimes just set out to see what catches my interest. An outdoor painting session can last 3 hours at most, because the sun’s movement causes the light and shadows to change significantly after just a couple of hours. This means that once I am at a location, I have to set up quickly and get right to work. Painting plein air is an exercise of making rapid decisions about what to include, mixing and applying colors without over-analyzing, and remembering to take breaks to avoid straining my legs, back and shoulders. Then, there comes the time when the light is so obviously changed that I have to stop, take some deep breaths, and go about cleaning my brushes and palette to prepare to pack up and go home. These are intense painting sessions, to say the least.

During the winter and early spring, I walk the mile to my studio and use that time to mentally switch gears, clearing my mind by focusing on visual inputs from the passing scenery. If there is a painting underway on my easel, the day before I will have thought about next steps, which will have percolated in my mind over night. Upon arrival, I settle in: turn up the thermostat, change into my painting clothes, put on an apron, maybe take a look at finished paintings on the wall for more input, and get my palette ready. If I had been painting recently, there’s plastic covering leftover paint which needs to be removed and perhaps new paint squeezed out. I pour out fresh solvent and medium; decide which brushes to use, and fire up the 10-year old iPad that I use to display photo references. If my studio mate is there, we chit chat for a few minutes before we both get to our easels.

Mostly I paint in silence; there is already so much noise in my life that just listening to the heating unit cycle on and off is enough of a distraction. On days when I need a bit more energy, I put on music, usually jazz or classical instrumental selections that are ambient and not too dramatic (no Beethoven’s Ninth, thank you!). Occasionally, I have to admit, I will listen to 70s and 80s disco for extra energy boosts! I usually take a break to make a cup of tea thanks to an ancient microwave, or run out to get a sandwich from the bodega across the street; check email and maybe update Instagram. At the end of the day, I basically reverse how I started––cover up leftover paint on the palette, wash out the brushes, turn off the iPad, lower the thermostat, and change back into my street clothes. Painting at the studio is a more moderately paced affair. And always, I head home in excellent spirits.

I absolutely love being in my studio. Even though I share it with another painter friend, my studio is my haven where I go to experience my thoughts and ideas without having to meet other people’s expectations or responsibilities. It is literally “My Happy Place.”

Do you work at a particular size or scale? Why?

Generally, I work at a relatively small scale, around 12”x 16” or smaller, because it is the most portable when plein air painting. It is also a standard frame size and I have found that this size fits well in my collectors’ city apartments. My studio paintings range larger since I have the option to work on a larger easel and spend more time on them. The largest I have ever painted are 48” x 60”. These were a blast to work on, even if quite physically demanding.

What are you currently working on? What is most exciting about the most recent work?

I recently finished a trio of commissioned paintings depicting different Brooklyn neighborhoods. The clients had lived in each of these places and wanted to preserve their memories in paintings. What was most exciting is that the client left much discretion to me about how to present their former haunts. One turned out to be a lovely brownstone building, but instead of making it into a house portrait, I suggested a street view that showed off the pretty stoop, flower planters, a large tree with its tree pit, and the bikes parked on a street sign. There was the opportunity to do a lot with the play of light and shadows from the tree on the building and sidewalk.

The other two have strikingly different compositions with longer street views and more emphasis on the block, rather than a specific building. These two also enabled me to include quintessential Brooklyn elements, such as a waterfront crane, interesting buildings and architectural elements, a city bus, a bicycle rider, tree-lined streets in their fall foliage glory and areas of complex light/shadow. That these three paintings are going to one home together is exciting for me because they showcase elements of Brooklyn that appeal to me so much.

Which artists most inspire you and your work?

The most obvious influence that most people see right away is Edward Hopper. I would clarify by saying early Hopper paintings with their focus on architecture and brilliant light and shadows inspire me. His later works became somewhat sad and lonely, and frankly sort of weird, and not of interest to me. I am also inspired by late Degas and Monet, which may be less obvious, because, as they aged, both had become colorists more than Impressionists. In fact, their bold handling of color in their late paintings make them incredibly abstract without being garish. That’s a pretty nifty trick! I like to look at Vermeer, also, because of his genius handling of light; but also appreciate how artists like Frans Hals, John Singer Sargent, and Wayne Thiebaud handle paint with confident brushstrokes bordering on bravado. I feel I still have lots to learn and want to continue to grow as a painter.

Do you have any current or upcoming exhibits?

No, although as we are coming to the end of a yearlong pandemic, I hope that the annual Gowanus Open Studios might be possible in October. In the meantime, I do a lot of my own marketing, I participate in online art presentation platforms such as ArtinRes.com and Artsy.net, and have a fairly robust set of collectors and followers who have continued to collect throughout the pandemic. Thank goodness for the Internet!

We hope you’ve enjoyed this special peek into Ella's creative environment! Even in a virtual age, we encourage all budding collectors to take the time to connect with the artists you love directly.

We want to remind you of our awesome artist messaging feature directly on the Art in Res site––reach out now and foster that creative energy! Have more questions for Ella on her art and practice? Follow up with her directly via our messenger. We know she’ll be thrilled to answer any questions you might have. Ask about a specific painting or about her specific process in general––either approach works!