In a realm where academy credentials
often help define an artist, landscape/still life painter David Sorg is completely
self-taught. Born in Chicago in 1956, Sorg was artistic as a child, and has
gradually progressed from those earliest works in crayon to the elegant and moody
oil paintings with which he is now identified. What hes learned over the
years has come from trial-and-error explorations of the materials; from books
about artistic masters like John Singer Sargent, Thomas W. Dewing and James Whistler;
and from his own first-hand observations of nature.
The
moodiness frequently found in David Sorgs paintings isnt due simply
to their often deep-toned palette. By patiently building up glazes of translucent
color over color, Sorg creates a hazy depth-of-field that establishes a vivid
sense of a place's atmosphere. Distant clouds may have the downward gray blur
that announces distant rain, but Sorg brings this message closer, to the front
of the picture plane, carrying the suggestion of moisture directly to the viewer.
Often theres a slight but nearly palpable mist. To our sense of smell these
paintings may carry the aroma of linseed oil, but to our most powerful sensethe
imaginationthey smell like rain.

In the high plains terrain of Denver, where
Sorg has lived since 1977, any hint of rain is magical. Precipitation is literally
a gift from the heavens in what would otherwise be a desert. Plants green
up in seasons with rain and stay sere-brown otherwise. Water means life.
An avid enthusiast of hiking,
backpacking and mountain biking, Sorg experiences the high plains, front range
and mountain terrains first-hand, often photographing as he moves through the
landscape, occasionally painting outside as well. The paintings that evolve afterwards,
however, are rarely drawn from any specific site. Instead, the artist works to
capture a sense of mood, the atmosphere of a place rather than an accurate record
of it. Photographs and on-site paintings are useful, but only as references, drawn
upon to observe shades of green and brown in the plants or shadows under a tree,
rather than for the precise angle of a renowned peak.
Perhaps
due to the quiet found in his outdoors pursuits, Sorgs rarely brings a human
presence to his landscapes. These tend to be places where the viewer is alone
in the landscape, able to enjoy the solitude. A path may suggest the eventual
company of other peopleor simply a well-worn personal trail. A rowboat might
hint that others are nearbyor this may be the boat that brought the viewer
to this still and private place. To view these landscapes is to have a sense of
inhabiting them, of sharing their quiet mood, of feeling their damp breezes.
My
intent is to take people somewhere theyd like to be, says the artist.
Though Sorg then laughs at his own sense of escapism, the results
are timeless, quiet and evocative. Many of us would like to be there.

Technically, Sorgs paintings often begin with
a classical treatment: the canvas is tinted with a raw umber base coat. Over this
mid-value color, the painter roughs in a sketch lightly with charcoal and then
begins adding light and dark tones to further define the scene. With this range
of values in place, Sorg then moves in with a full palette of color to slowly,
layer by layer, complete the painting.
The viewer
sees the results, not the slow details of the artists labors. What we ultimately
see are muscular clouds trailing a fringe of rain, the beginnings of greenery
brought by the life-giving moisture, the deeply secretive shadows of twilight
enveloping a pathway between trees, the promise of rain in the air. We view places
we can travel in our minds eye.