In the Stillness: My Journey as a Tonalist

Every time I pick up a brush, I step into a world of quiet reflection. My studio transforms into a sanctuary where light reacts with form on the canvas. For me, painting isn’t about capturing every detail—it’s about evoking a feeling, a mood, something just out of reach. That’s why I’ve embraced Tonalism as both a method and a philosophy. 

“Enchantment” Oil on silver leaf, 30” x 36”, by Don Ripper, Private Collection

I’ve always been drawn to the idea that less is more. (Well maybe not in fashion lol)  There’s something profound about the spaces in between—the shadows, the fog, those fleeting moments when the world feels like it’s holding its breath. That’s where Tonalism comes alive for me. It’s not about sharp contrasts or loud declarations; it’s about whispering the beauty of a moment and letting the viewer lean in to listen.  

Finding Inspiration in Nature

Painting in the Shenandoah River State Park

My process always begins outdoors. At dawn or dusk, I wander through landscapes, sketchbook and camera in hand, chasing the soft transitions of light and shadow. These are the moments that inspire me most, when the world feels suspended in a kind of stillness.

“Pink Delight” Oil on silver leaf, 24”x 30” by Don Ripper, Private Collection

When I’m back in the studio, I don’t aim to replicate those scenes exactly. Instead, I paint what I remember—the way the light moved through the trees or the way the fog softened the edges of the horizon. Memory, with all its distortions and emotions, plays as much of a role in my work as observation.

Whistler the famous british 19th century painter would famously bring his students to the edge of the river Tames at dusk. He would have his students write down the relationships and compositional notes. On the way home he would quiz his students on what they witnessed. These notes and memories are what I use today more than anything else while in the studio working on my major works.   

Nocturne Blue and Gold, James Abbott McNeil Whistler

The Tonalist Approach  

While traditional tonalists start with a neutral-toned canvas, I instead often start with a prepared panel that has been silver leafed. This sets the mood and gives me a foundation to build on. I work with a limited palette of transparent color building Layer by layer, I add paint, often using thin glazes to create depth and atmosphere. This process is slow and meditative, almost like composing music. Each layer is a note, and together they create harmony. Soft brushes help me blend transitions, while squeegees, and often my thumb, both add and push away excess paint, leaving traces of texture that feel worn and organic.  

“I’ll See You Again” Oil  and silver leaf of board, 18” x 20” , by Don Ripper,  Artemis Gallery Maine

One of my favorite challenges is painting mist or fog. It’s delicate work, achieved with light scumbling and blending. These veils of atmosphere are where I find the most beauty—what’s hidden is often more powerful than what’s revealed. Carefully thought out, this is the moment the silver in my preparation can glow almost as if backlit. Ever notice how a foggy day can be bright, luminous and rich in color?    

“Beginning” Oil on board, 30” x 36”, by Don Ripper, Private Collection

A Connection to Memory  

As much as I draw from nature, I realize my work is rooted in memory. I don’t want to capture a specific place but rather the feeling of it. I think that’s what gives a painting its power: it becomes a shared experience, something universal.  

In my studio, I surround myself with objects that ground me— In particular the numerous studies and notebook entries that I created on site. I view these as small stories that remind me of where I’ve been and guide me toward where I’m going.  

When I paint, I’m not trying to say, “This is what it looked like.” Instead, I’m saying, “This is how it felt.”  

Why Tonalism Matters  

“Surrender” Oil and gold leaf, 18” x 18”, by Don Ripper available at Artemis Gallery in Maine

In today’s world, where everything is so loud and immediate, Tonalism feels like an act of rebellion. It’s about slowing down, stepping back, and finding beauty in simplicity. I think people crave that now more than ever.  

I’ve noticed that viewers linger in front of my work. They don’t rush past; they pause. I like to think it’s because my paintings give them a space to breathe, to reflect.  

Tonalism, though rooted in the 19th century, feels timeless to me. It’s not about trends or techniques; it’s about connection. It reminds us of something universal—the way light transforms the ordinary, the way atmosphere creates mystery, the way stillness can be as profound as motion. 

“Secret Place” Oil on Silver Leaf, 16” x 20”, by Don Ripper Available at Artemis Gallery in Maine

The Art of Whispering  

As I look at my latest piece drying on the easel, I’m reminded of why I paint this way. Tonalism doesn’t shout. It doesn’t demand attention. Instead, it invites. It whispers stories of twilight, of fog-drenched mornings, of the quiet in-between moments that so often go unnoticed.  

For me, that’s enough. Art doesn’t have to shout to be heard. Sometimes, a whisper says it all.

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