More Than a Competition

What My First Driggs Plein Air Event Taught Me

There is something both exciting and intimidating about arriving at a plein air competition you've never attended before. Every event has its own personality, its own landscape, and its own traditions. Although I have participated in many plein air events over the years, this was my first time painting in Driggs, Idaho. As I drove into the valley beneath the magnificent Teton Range, I found myself asking the same questions every artist asks: Where should I paint? What should I expect? How can I make the most of this week?

By the time I packed my easel to head home, I realized I had learned far more than where to find a good composition. I had been reminded that a successful plein air event is about much more than the paintings we produce. It is about preparation, flexibility, professionalism, community, and perhaps most importantly, gratitude.

One of the best decisions I made happened long before I arrived. I reached out to artists who had painted the event in previous years. They generously shared favorite painting locations, reference photos, and practical advice about the area. Those conversations gave me a head start and saved valuable time during the competition. I also spent time studying artists who know the landscape well, particularly Scott Christensen, who lives nearby in Victor. I wasn't looking to imitate his work. Instead, I wanted to understand how he approached these enormous mountain forms, how he simplified them, and how he responded to the extraordinary light of eastern Idaho. Looking at the work of artists who know a region intimately can teach us as much about seeing as it does about painting.

Victor farmland

Arriving a day early proved to be another invaluable decision. Rather than rushing to unpack my easel, I spent the day driving through the valley, exploring back roads, taking photographs, and dropping digital pins on locations that caught my attention. By the time the event officially began, I already had a map of potential painting sites. Instead of spending precious morning light searching for a subject, I could focus on what I had come there to do—paint.

Of course, no amount of planning prepares you for the weather. Most afternoons were surprisingly hot, and I quickly realized I had made one important mistake—I had forgotten my umbrella. Shade suddenly became as valuable as a good composition. Around three o'clock each afternoon, dark clouds would begin to build over the Tetons. More than once I found myself wondering whether the approaching rain would be a brief shower or a complete downpour. Several times I packed up my equipment, only to set it up again a short time later as the storm passed.

Just before the rain

Yet those same storms rewarded us with some of the most spectacular sunsets I've ever experienced. Between five and nine in the evening, the skies exploded with color. The storms softened the atmosphere, the light became magical, and every evening felt like another opportunity waiting to unfold. Plein air painting has a wonderful way of reminding us that nature always has the final say. The sooner we learn to work with it rather than fight it, the richer the experience becomes.

Magical Sunsets

As much as I enjoyed the painting, I found that many of my favorite memories happened when I wasn't thinking about competition at all. One afternoon, I painted while a herd of curious cows gathered nearby, quietly watching every brushstroke as though they were my own personal audience. Another day, I stopped painting altogether when a herd of moose wandered into a nearby field. Birds flew in and out of my scene, horses grazed peacefully beneath the mountains, and on one memorable afternoon a bald eagle soared overhead while rafters floated down the river, enjoying a perfect Idaho summer day. Those moments weren't on my painting schedule. They were gifts.

"Standing Through Time", 9x12

Along South Bates Road with my Pals

They reminded me why I paint outdoors in the first place. We spend so much time chasing light that sometimes we forget to simply experience the places we have traveled so far to paint. The wildlife, the weather, the sounds of the river, the conversations with people who stop to watch—these become just as meaningful as the finished painting.

By Bates Bridge

The week also reminded me how important community is within the plein air world. I made a point of attending every artist reception and gathering. Those evenings were an opportunity to reconnect with old friends, meet artists I admired, and get to know painters who, like me, were experiencing Driggs for the first time. One of my favorite conversations was with a young artist whose enthusiasm for painting was contagious. Listening to her excitement reminded me of why I fell in love with painting many years ago. I also enjoyed sharing dinners with friends, laughing about the day's adventures, comparing paintings, and simply enjoying each other's company. Those conversations are every bit as valuable as the hours spent at the easel.

A few weeks ago I wrote a newsletter called The Art of Finding Common Ground, reflecting on how the World Cup brought together people from different countries through a shared passion. Standing in Driggs, I realized that plein air events do something remarkably similar. Artists arrive from all over the country with different backgrounds, different styles, and different levels of experience, yet for one week we speak the same language. We encourage one another, exchange painting locations, celebrate each other's successes, and quietly help each other through the inevitable disappointments that every competition brings.

There is another lesson I think is worth mentioning because it says something about professionalism. Behind every successful plein air event is an enormous team of organizers, volunteers, sponsors, judges, and community members who spend months making the experience possible. They coordinate meals, exhibitions, sales, transportation, judging, receptions, and countless details that most artists never see. Take the time to thank them. Turn your work in before the deadline. Follow the event guidelines. While you're out painting, remember that you're also representing the event. When people stop to watch, invite them to attend the exhibition or quick draw. Help create excitement for the event. And perhaps most importantly, don't become the artist who complains. Every event has challenges. Weather changes. Paintings don't always cooperate. The artists who leave the strongest impression are usually the ones who remain positive, gracious, and appreciative.

"Evening Benediction", 9x12

"Valley of Light", 8x16

My 2 competition Paintings

Like every competition, Driggs brought both celebration and disappointment. I didn't receive an award this year, but I was grateful to sell three paintings to collectors who connected with my work. As I reflected on the week, I realized that success had taken many forms. It was found in the kindness of fellow artists willing to share advice, in volunteers who worked tirelessly behind the scenes, in conversations with visitors curious about plein air painting, in unforgettable sunsets, and in the quiet privilege of spending an entire week immersed in the landscape.

When I drove away from Driggs, I brought home a stack of paintings. But I also carried home something far more valuable: new friendships, fresh inspiration, a deeper appreciation for one of Idaho's most beautiful landscapes, and a renewed gratitude for the opportunity to spend a week doing what I love.

Perhaps that's the greatest lesson of any plein air event. We travel believing we're there to make paintings. Somewhere along the way, we discover we're really collecting experiences. And long after the ribbons are awarded and the paintings have found new homes, it is those experiences that quietly find their way into every painting that follows.

"Teton Rains", 8x10

Bates Bridge

Link for newsletter: "The Art of Common Ground: Lessons from the World Cup"-https://www.ellenhowardart.com/nl/?nid=352341&type=html

Additional Tips:

Before You Arrive

• Paint what inspires you. Every judge has different tastes, so don't try to guess what will win. Choose subjects that genuinely excite you and reflect your own artistic voice.
• Talk to artists who have attended before. Ask about favorite painting locations, logistics, and what they wish they had known their first year.
• Research the area. Study local artists, maps, and photographs to become familiar with the landscape before you arrive.
• Arrive a day early if possible. Spend time exploring, taking photos, and dropping map pins on locations you'd like to revisit during the event.
• Download offline maps or carry a paper map. Cell service can be limited in remote areas.
• Pack for changing conditions. Mountain weather can change quickly, even in summer. Bring layers, rain gear, and comfortable footwear.
• Don't forget an umbrella! Shade can be just as important as shelter from rain.
• Bring sunscreen, insect repellent, plenty of water, snacks, and extra painting supplies. Having additional panels or canvases means you'll never hesitate to start another painting.
• Have a Plan B. If the weather changes, consider painting architecture, barns, interiors, or quick color studies from a sheltered location.

During the Event

• Enjoy the experience as much as the painting. Some of your favorite memories may be the wildlife, changing weather, conversations, and unexpected moments that happen between brushstrokes.
• Keep a positive attitude. Every artist has paintings that don't work. Don't let one disappointing day affect the rest of your week.
• Be flexible. If the light isn't working or a location isn't inspiring you, don't be afraid to move. Sometimes your best painting is waiting around the next corner.
• Attend the artist receptions and social gatherings. They are one of the best ways to build friendships and become part of the plein air community.
• Support your fellow artists. Encourage one another, celebrate successes, and share information generously.
• Take time to thank the organizers and volunteers. They invest countless hours making these events possible.
• Be professional. Turn your work in on time, follow the event guidelines, and make life easier for the organizers.
• Promote the event while you're painting. When people stop to watch, invite them to the exhibition or quick draw. You're an ambassador for the event as well as for plein air painting.
• Remember that every painting doesn't need to be a masterpiece. Some of the best competition paintings begin as simple studies that teach you something valuable and lead to stronger studio work later