About Alice Kitchel

When I was a child, I wanted to be a visual artist, a painter. Growing up on a farm in Vermont I lived the landscapes, seasons, times of day, colors, and sense of light in the world around me. After college where I majored in art history, I took a meandering path to become an artist by first simply starting to draw. I then moved on to study handloom weaving and tapestry weaving. For a while I apprenticed with an artist to weave tapestries. Later I designed woven textiles for a drapery and upholstery company in New York City. Working with yarns and fibers re-sensitized me to the power of color and the eloquence of proportion and pattern. I then went on to become an art therapist and mental health counselor. I am now, along with being an artist, an associate credentialled coach and consultant.

30 years ago, I returned to my first passion, painting. I’m largely self-taught through art classes, mentors, critiques, retreats, and by simply doing it. Now, my work reflects my thoughts and feelings about the natural world around me and our human interaction with it.  It is a return and an homage to my first awareness of the natural world around us all. I convey, with color, light, and pattern, the beauty it offers, the importance and value of the natural world around us and the necessity of being good stewards of our home.

Artist’s Statement

I am outside every day taking in the natural world as I walk my dog, ski, hike, or garden. Having grown up on a farm, I am drawn to aspects of the environment around me — plants, animals, water, sky, clouds, even an interior with reference to the outside landscape. I am an avid student of nature. As I scan the world around me, I never know what will attract my attention. When I do notice a scene or landscape, I become intrigued and think to myself, “there is something there.” I don’t know fully what that something is. I then make sketches or take photos.

After choosing the appropriate size canvas for the topic of the painting, I cover the canvas with an underlayer of a delicate hint of the color tone of the atmosphere of the landscape or scene. Is it bold and bright? Is it subdued or dark? Is it warm or cold?

As I start the painting and begin to work with the layout, elements, and colors in the painting, I am guided by the drawings and photographs. Gradually, I stop referring to them. The painting takes on its own life and meaning. I work to find the essence of the “something” I had sensed. 

During the painting process, I endeavor to convey the seemingly infinite range of color and the effect of light. I work to achieve this with choices of colors and the play of light and dark. I also work to convey the sense of movement with the trail of the brushstrokes on the canvas and the flow created by the layout of the painting. The paradox, of course, is that the painting is a static representation of a living, changing scene.

At a certain point, the painting seems finished. Then, I set it aside for a while before looking at it again. I think of this as a time for the painting to “cure.” Usually, I look at the painting and see that there is more work to do. Eventually, I know intuitively that the painting is complete.

Not always, but most of the time, the meaning underlying my work is an aspect of the beauty and value of the natural world, our place in it, and a plea to everyone to see, cherish, and work to protect and preserve it.