UCLA Journal of Radiation Oncology FALL 2024 and ANNUAL REPORT - Flipbook - Page 11
UCLA RADIATION ONCOLOGY JOURNAL
6-7 paintings underway, and she was donating a piece for
the rural non-pro昀椀t arts organization I was directing at
the time. The painting she donated was expected to raise
quite a sum for the organization at the January fundraising
gala.
mind on direction of light source, necessitating that she
paint in layers that bring to the surface a di昀昀erent quality
of light than the top layer alone would have had. She
says, “One of the great things about painting in oil as
opposed to watercolor (gouache) is that you can let the
paint dry and then completely change the painting. It’s a
lot more di昀케cult to do that with watercolor. This allows
me to paint much more freely than I did with my gouache
paintings.”
I felt connected to Wheaton and her work, as she is not
only a San Francisco native like myself, but she also went
to art school in the Bay Area (UC Berkeley—although
her brother went to San Francisco Art Institute, my alma
mater, and is now based out of Denver) where began her
foray into large oil paintings of landscapes with California
skylines, and is smitten with the Eastern Washington skies
and vistas.
When 昀椀rst in Eastern Washington, Wheaton would do
a lot of plein air studies. “I would drive all over the state
and pull over. I had my paint box in the back, and I’d have
my seats down in the back of my car, so I would climb
in and paint all these studies.” She used these studies
as resource material for paintings, and would also take
a lot of photographs. Perhaps this was an early way of
learning the landscapes, the colors, the movement of the
water and the way light hit basalt cli昀昀s or buttes. She has
perhaps always been an intuitive painter. While Wheaton
might still use photos as reference material, she never
works directly toward replication. “Sometimes I make
up the composition, but if I am using a photograph or
photographs, I’ll work from them a little bit to get ideas of
di昀昀erent things, and then I’ll put them away and focus on
painting.” She’ll work on six to eight paintings at one time,
because, she says, “That way I can work on one for awhile
and when I’m not sure what to do next I can start working
on another. I have narrow shelves on the walls so that I
can look at all of them as they dry and 昀椀gure out what to
add or change. I use the studies or photos for ideas but
once I get to a certain point I just focus on the painting.”
Her painting of California landscapes shifted when she
traveled Europe, painting there, of course, the European
countryside. She tells me, “When I got home, I was just
kind of stuck, but I was inspired by a guy, Je昀昀 Becom,
who painted in gouache. He spent six months every
year in Italy, and he painted these incredible tiled roofs,
interesting shapes, very subtle colors, which I love. And
the simplicity in his paintings was what I was after in my
landscapes.” She switched to painting with gouache as
well, doing architectural paintings, light and shadows
on facades of buildings in San Francisco as well as Italy,
France, and Greece. They required a great deal of prep,
measuring and drawing with ruler and pencil so the
buildings would be accurate. While she enjoyed this
change, she admits, “It was never my medium. Oils are
always my medium.” And so she returned to painting
landscapes with oils.
What she did retain from her exploration with gouache is
a simple palette. And when she and her husband moved
to Eastern Washington, she says, “I thought, ‘Oh my God,
this is it.’ It was so simple; you know, big horizons, very
simple landscapes. Many people called the landscape
bleak or boring, but I felt in love with it. I always say that
the thing that is tricky with this kind of landscape is that
because they’re so simple, you have to 昀椀gure out how
to make them interesting.” Wheaton’s six-color palette
of cadmium yellow light, yellow ochre, cadmium red
light, cerulean blue, ultramarine blue, and white may
sound overly simplistic, but like the Eastern Washington
landscape, there are endless combinations that create
subtle and nuanced shifts in tone, temperature, and hue.
“I love mixing colors,” she shares. “In the beginning, my
paintings were very 昀氀at. I really like having that feeling of
distance from a more aerial perspective, where you can
see layers of distant 昀椀elds, hills, and even mountains. I
learned how to mute the colors to push the land farther
and farther into the distance. Now it’s like second nature.”
Wheaton stretches and gessoes her own canvases, but
she likes to begin with “a think wash of yellow ochre to
get rid of the white.” She is also prone to changing her
When viewing the 18”x60” “Winter’s Chill in the Gorge,”
the chill can be felt in the hazy mutedness of the sky, the
sharp angles of the gorge sweeping down to a line of snow
just above the water. There are also the nuances of texture
she captures where the snow caught in crevices, and
the lighter color of the water nearest shore, where it has
perhaps frozen. She tells me, “When I 昀椀rst started painting
landscapes of Eastern Washington I focused on the land.
Eventually I got more interested in water, and then later
I became fascinated by skies and clouds. I needed to 昀椀nd
my own interpretation of each element. Mainly to simplify.
I would look at the larger shapes of dark and light on the
water, or the white line of alkaline or ice along the edge
of a lake or river.” With this particular painting, it was the
昀椀rst time she went with the long, thin shape. “I wanted to
have a big slice of that part of the gorge. That particular
place is incredible (on 84, on the Oregon side, looking
over at Washington); I have to pay close attention to my
driving when I’m on that section of freeway, am always
trying to 昀椀gure out where I can pull over and take more
photographs.” But, too, she remains fond of this painting
for the composition as well, shares, “I love this painting.
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